


Just A Rebound

by liiDoodles



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Eleven | Jane Hopper, Bisexual Maxine "Max" Mayfield, F/M, Flashbacks, Gay Will Byers, Minor Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Past Relationship(s), Smoking, Underage Drinking, im in love with the early 2000's and anyone who doesnt like that can leave, references to human trafficking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 66,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liiDoodles/pseuds/liiDoodles
Summary: "On today of all days, she just had to run into him. With his stupid adorable smile and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid cute freckles. It had to be today.El knows she's staring but god, she can't help it. It's like she's drowning in his eyes, and his freckles, and-No. Nope. Not today.You've already had your heart broken.But…What's the harm in a little flirting? It never hurt anyone."(Chapter 2)---On hiatus until further notice. sorry guys. (improvements being made!)
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Will Byers & Dustin Henderson & Lucas Sinclair & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers & Eleven | Jane & Dustin Henderson & Maxine Mayfield & Lucas Sinclair & Mike Wheeler
Comments: 287
Kudos: 168





	1. Back To My Old Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on this for awhile, just never got the guts to post it ig. But, it's here now so... 
> 
> Enjoy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Small edits made on Dec 23rd, 2020. Grammar and one inconsistency.)
> 
> Title is from the song 'Flaming Hot Cheetos' by Clario

"I'm breaking up with you."

Those were the five words that Jane never thought she'd hear from Troy.

After 5 years, she honestly got used to it. Sure, she only dated him because all the other girls on the squad said that refusing would be the end of her social life, but he kinda grew on her.

Maybe he was a womanizing, condescending, heartless asshole, but at least he was kind of good looking. I mean sure, he wasn't her type, to be honest, he was the very opposite of her type. Even worse, the guy she had a major crush on, Michael Wheeler, was Troy's main target for insults.

Michael Wheeler- where to begin. He used to always be there, holding her hand through everything. When she first moved to Hawkins in the seventh grade he was the first person to talk to her. Not even Jennifer or Stacey talked to her then. And for a while it was just her and Mike, they talked every day in her English class, the only class that he wasn't in honors for, and occasionally he'd leave notes in her locker. They weren't ever signed, but she just knew it was him.

Then she met Max.

Max, what to say about her. She's spunky, brilliant, and cute to boot. She moved from Los Angeles to Hawkins at the end of the summer, immediately finding sanctuary in the local arcade. El first heard of her when Mike mentioned that someone named "Madmax" beat his score in Galaga. At the time she had responded by saying that he was being silly, because it was just a game. To be completely honest, she forgot about her after that; she wasn't really any of her concern.

That was until she was walking to fourth period on an ordinary Wednesday in October, hugging her books tightly to her chest as students pushed past her.

As she stepped through the crowded halls she couldn't help but feel alone. Everyone walked in pairs, some talking animatedly, others whispering to each other, and a few couples holding hands as they walked.

It's like she was invisible to them, brushing past her as they smiled and laughed, blind to the quiet suffering that boiled deep inside of her.

She was nearing her locker at the end of the hall, taking a deep breath to clear her mind.

_Hey, at least you get to sit with Mike next period._

El smiled to herself and felt her steps pick up speed as she rounded the corner, completely unaware of the fiery redhead about to run into her with her skateboard. She was humming a soft tune to herself, letting her eyes slip shut as she quickly turned and entered her locker code, but before she could pull it open, she landed on the floor, someone ramming directly into her.

"Oh, my god! I'm so so sorry!"

El glanced up at the voice to see a girl, she was around her height, so she assumed that she was in 8th grade too. She quickly bent down and started to gather up Els books and papers, completely ignoring her skateboard as it zipped down the hall, making a few 7th graders nearly trip and fall face-first into the floor.

El shook her head. "Oh- no no no it's all my fault I should've been paying--"

As El glanced up, her vision filled with bright red waves and tan skin, deep blue eyes and a constellation of freckles. The girl was looking at El with curiosity, gaze slowly filling with confusion as the silence stretched on.

 _Pretty_.

"Cat got your tongue?"

El flushed as she shook her head. "S-sorry! It's just- you don't look like many girls from around here."

The girl smiled and then let out a breathy laugh as she stood up, holding out a hand to El as she balanced all of her dropped books in one hand. "Maybe that's because I'm not from here."

El took her hand as the girl pulled her up. "You're not?"

Her red hair bounced as she shook her head laughing. "Nope, I'm actually from LA." She shifted her weight and placed the books in Els arms.

Els eyes widened as she readjusted the grip she had on her books. "LA? like, the LA? Los Angeles? California? Like- somewhere where it's warm all the time?"

There was a pause before the girl roared with laughter. She caught her breath and managed to just barely reply. "Yeah- yeah like that." She stopped for a few seconds, now fully catching her breath, voice becoming normal once again. "You know what- I like you. Wanna be friends?" The girl extended a hand and smiled at El expectantly.

El stared at her hand for a second. _Wait- is she serious? She wants to be friends?_

"Hey doofus- you still in there?" A teasing voice cut through her thoughts and El quickly caught her breath. She shot a look back at her hand before looking back into her eyes and nodding.

Max smiled. "Well? What do you say? Friends?"

El looked down at her books and quickly shifted them to one hand, pulling open her unlocked locker and tossing them in, not bothering to close the door as she firmly grabbed the extended hand.

"Friends." Her voice was soft, yet sweet and happy, and El couldn't help but chide herself for being so transparent.

The girl smiled and then shook her hand violently, almost making El fall over. "Awesome! Oh- um- my name is Max by the way."

There was a pause. El was regaining her balance after the _violently_ energetic introduction, and without even thinking, she smiled back. "El."

She was shocked by her own response. The only people who called her by her nickname were Hop and Mike. So when it came out so easily to this girl, it was a sudden shift. A feeling of independence and free will. She didn't have to introduce herself as Jane, or the chief's daughter, or the new girl, she was just… El.

Max smiled before her gaze drifted over to Els's shoulder, eventually landing on something down the hall.

"Welp- I'm getting detention."

El turned around to see her math teacher, Mr. Hughes, face down on the floor- a skateboard trapped underneath his ankle as he tried to pick himself up.

El laughed and then looked over to Max. She smiled. A friend. A real, girl friend. She finally did it, she had a girl friend.

El was so busy grabbing things for her next class and talking with Max that she completely missed the note that had fallen out of her locker. Mike's messy handwriting hidden neatly beneath the folds.

After that, Max and El were inseparable, they did everything together, and one was never very far from the other. They were still the outcasts, considered to be nerds and freaks by their peers, but they didn't care. As long as they had each other, they were happy. And as the weeks went on, El found herself spending less time with Mike and more time with Max.

By the time freshman year started, Mike and El were so distant that it felt like they were strangers. El was so far removed from the "geeky girl" she used to be, going shopping with Max on weekends, being more extroverted and open with her personality, even occasionally chatting with the popular girls.

That's how she got invited to Stacey's party.

It was after french class. El was packing up her stuff just after the bell rang, ready to run to her physics class when Jennifer Hayes walked up to her. El wouldn't consider herself to be popular, but she did know some of the popular girls. Jennifer was one of the girls she knew, so it wasn't strange for her to say hi to El every once and awhile. But this time it was different. Jennifer took her classes very seriously, and almost never stopped to talk to anyone during passing periods, so seeing her walk up to El just as class was ending was… odd, to say the least.

“Hey!”

El looked up to see Jennifer beaming at her. “Hi.”

“So uh, I know this probably seems weird, but I couldn't find you during lunch so…”

El looks down to Jennifer's hands and sees a small pink envelope.

 _Holy shit_.

You see, El only knew two things about high school parties. One, they involved a lot of alcohol, and two, you had to be invited. At most schools, party invites were normally delivered orally, but at Hawkins High, it was traditionally done through a hand-delivered note. The notes were normally indicative of whose party it was. If it was a jocks party, all the invites were on a single piece of crumpled looseleaf paper. If it was a secret party, they were passed notes during class. But the most recognizable of these were the ones that came from the cheerleaders, most notably, Stacey and her goons. Invites to one of Stacey's parties were _rare,_ so rare in fact, that the pink envelope had become its own kind of myth. But as El looked down at the dainty envelope in Jennifer's hand, she realized it _had_ to be true.

“Here, Stacey told me to give you this.” she slid the letter into Els's hand, as if was nothing. 

El looked down at the letter and flipped it over in her hands, observing it. El looked up, catching Jennifer's gaze once again.

“Oh!” she gasped, “I almost forgot-” Jennifer quickly opened her messenger bag and pulled out another envelope. “Stacey said to deliver this to your friend Max too, so maybe you could bring it to her?”

El had nodded far too enthusiastically, snatching it up and heading off to Max’s locker. She will never forget that day, the day that she became a new El. the way Max’s face lit up, the way they spent the whole night getting ready, no longer geeky and lame, but popular and liked.

It was so exciting that El didn't even stop to consider that maybe this was a mistake, leaving her past behind for a mask of mascara and sparkly eyeshadow. Tossing out old comics and replacing them with teen magazines, taking down Star Wars posters and replacing them with posters of famous actors or musicians, trading out her old baggy band t-shirts for a cheerleader uniform. She wasn't who she used to be. Everything she once was, gone.

Well, _almost_ everything.

Deep down El knew that there was one thing she could never get rid of. The one weak link. The only thing that would always be in the back of her mind, tormenting her for _what could've been_. No more shy smiles and warm fluttery feelings, no more whispered jokes or soft laughter, no more blushing faces or locker notes. No more _Mike_.

But it didn't matter. Even if she still liked Mike, he never liked her. So when she found herself being asked out by Troye Harrington, she didn't say no. And with that, Mike was pushed to the back of her mind. It didn't hurt any less, the way that he slipped back into her thoughts late at night, thoughts of soft smiles and blushing cheeks making her heart sink.

So five years later, when El was sitting at a rickety table at her favorite coffee shop near campus with Troye, she was taken aback by his bluntness.

And as he looked at her, waiting for a response, all she could do was furrow her eyebrows. She wanted to _yell_ at him. _She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs about how he wasted years of her life, how five years meant nothing to him._

But El wasn’t an unreasonable person. She knew that yelling would cause a scene, that people would stare and pull their phones out to record the endeavor. But then something dawned on her.

_She wasn't in high school anymore._

Suddenly her legs were carrying her towards the door, ignoring Troye as he called out to her. She had graduated nearly half a year ago, deciding to go to college with Troye. It honestly never dawned on her that she could've broken up with him the second that she moved the golden tassel of her cap to the other side. She wasn't planning on staying in contact with anyone other than him and Max, so it was easy to burn her cheerleading uniform with her at their annual summer bonfire.

At the time it hadn't really impacted her, she was so distant from her true self that it just felt like another minor change. But now, as she glided out of the cafe doors and blocked Troyes number, it _truly_ set in.

_I'm free._

_Free_.

Suddenly she was calling Max, rushing back towards her dorm as the phone rang. She picked up on the 6th ring, sounding dazed.

 _"El? Whatisit?"_ Her words were slurred together and El held back a laugh. She was napping. At two in the afternoon. God, she was adorable.

"You'll _never_ guess what just happened." She smiled into the speaker, her excitement evident in her tone.

She heard a grumble from the other end of the line. " _Did you break up with that asshole finally?_

El laughed. "Nope! He did it for me!" She realized how odd this was, someone, being happy to be broken up with, giggling as she told her best friend everything.

_God, I must look like some kind of freak. But you know what? I don't fucking care. I'd be a freak any day if it meant I never had to see Troye again._

_"Oh my god, El, I'm so sorry."_ Max sounded pitiful, as if she cared about her and Troye's relationship, as if she didn't know that El hated him. " _He didn't deserve you anyway."_

El laughed. "That seems like an understatement."

 _Holy fuck_. Did she just say that?

_Maybe she was pissed._

El heard Max take a deep breath, clearly concerned. " _El… I know you hated him, but you still dated him for five years. It's not going to be that easy."_

"I know Max…" her smile faltered a bit. "it's just- I'm so done with that asshole!" Her smile picked back up and her stride became more joyful.

" _Maybe we should go out tonight. I've got a friend who's a bartender, they could slip us a few drinks."_ Max's voice was mischievous but full of excitement. They weren't of legal age, but being popular back in high school definitely had its perks.

"Max, they won't let us in. Every club around here checks at the door." El frowned slightly, but her steps kept the same pace.

" _Ok, fine._ " Max groaned dejectedly. _"Let's just go to that new diner on campus."_

El smiled at that, a slight skip in her step as she clutched her messenger bag closer to her. "Ok, meet you there in five."

"Five minutes _El, no longer. And don't think you've avoided talking about Troye._ " Max huffed.

El rolled her eyes out of instinct and laughed. "Yeah, yeah, see you then." She replied sarcastically. She pulled her phone away from her ear and hung up. And now she was alone, left on the streets of Chicago.

 _And god, did she feel powerful_.

* * *

Mike hated university.

Sure, learning all about physics was fascinating, and his friends were amazing, but working at an extremely underpaid job on campus was probably not the wisest decision.

He was running late, not for any specific reason, just that he had slept in a little later than usual. Like eleven AM later. But that wasn't important, what was important was getting there before Dustin's shift ended, because he knew he couldn't cover for him forever.

_It's only been a few weeks, I'll readjust._

Well, actually… he probably wouldn't.

You see, Mike was extremely good at adjusting to new ideas he learned. Like math, science, and English. But a lot of things in life don't involve writing an essay or figuring out a complex math problem, they involved social skills.

And that was something Mike _never_ had.

For as long as Mike could remember, he'd been the outcast, never speaking to anyone outside of his friend circle in fear of being humiliated. He knew that it wasn't healthy, but it was comfortable, for him at least.

And then there was romance.

_God, what is there to say?_

For all of his life, Mike had never, ever, successfully gotten a date. _And he was a freshman in college for fucks sake!_

It's not that girls have never been interested in him, actually, that's far from the truth, nowadays the diner was filled with girls who would come in just to order a drink and give him their number. No, it wasn't because girls rejected him, it was because he rejected girls.

Mike knew he was kind of rude when it came to telling girls off, but he couldn't help it, they just were not his type. _Not that he was gay or anything!_ Honestly, it just kind of confused Mike. Even girls who looked like they were torn from the front cover of vogue were not his type. Sometimes he wondered if he even had a 'type' if that was just an excuse that his subconscious mind had made to avoid total embarrassment.

But then his mind would drift back to his 7th-grade English class, and he would smile to himself as his mind was filled with memory after memory.

Him making lame jokes and her laughing anyway. Him glancing over to her during a test just to see her golden-brown eyes staring right back at him. The way her shoulder-length hair blew in the wind as he biked them to the library, her strawberry shampoo overwhelming his senses.

So yeah, he had a type. It's just that his type could only _ever_ be El Hopper.

It still hurt.

He had poured his heart out in that note, and Jane hadn't even mentioned it to him. It's as if she never even saw it at all.

She didn't even talk to him a lot after that, distancing herself from him as she became more and more involved in the social hierarchy of Hawkins Middle.

In eighth grade, they had a few classes together, like English and History. Of course, she didn't really talk to him in most of them, she was always too busy with her redheaded friend. But every once and a while she would swing by his locker during passing periods and tell him how life was going, about how happy she was now. How happy she was without him.

Mike was the one to end it. Whatever "it" was. _A friendship? Mutual crush?_ He didn't know, all he knew was that after winter break in 8th grade, Jane and Max started talking to the popular girls. And that only meant trouble for him.

By the time summer had rolled around, Jane had completely forgotten about him. Or at least, it seemed that way. There were still times where Mike would wonder.

During the first semester of freshman year, she stayed single. Rumor was that she had a secret boyfriend that she didn't like to talk about. Well, she did talk about a boy, but she never named names or gave specifics. She would supposedly gush over dark eyes and fluffy hair, and go on nonstop about freckled cheeks, but that was just a rumor. And in Mike's experience, that's what rumors did, they gave the tiniest bit of hope, only to be a big facade that hid the truth.

After winter break she started dating Troye. Mike had avoided her completely for the rest of freshman year, it was just too much, too fast. And when sophomore year started, the rumors only got worse.

Rumor had it that Jane had gotten drunk at some fourth of July rager and had lost her virginity to Troye. It was normal run-of-the-mill gossip, but Mike couldn't take it this time. Because it wasn't just any other bitchy plastic popular girl, it was El. Or- it _used_ to be El.

All throughout sophomore year, they would pass each other in the halls, and El would try to sneakily glance at him over Troyes's shoulder. And every single time he would see the same eyes, but they weren't her eyes.

They didn't shine anymore, not like they used to. They were dull, hollow, empty. And every single time, it was as if she was pleading with him. Begging him to grab her hand and run and never, ever stop. To take her in his arms and run away with her. And for only a second, Mike would swear he saw the slightest bit of shine come back to her eyes, as if just seeing him was enough.

But then Troye would say something, and her eyes would go back to their same hollow emptiness. The same plastered-on smile would come back, never meeting her eyes. It was never genuine, not like it used to be. And she would go back to being Jane.

Junior year was the worst.

They had an English class together. And every single day, Mike would sit at the back of the class and stare at her in her varsity jacket, big blue lettering spelling out 'Hopper' across her shoulder blades. He'd watch her write in her journal, as she twirled her hair absentmindedly.

It was unfair.

The way she hid behind it all. The way she would fake her smiles and laughs like she was playing a part in some kind of fucking musical. And in some sort of twisted way, Mike believed it. He believed that it was real. And suddenly, he forgot that she was El. And she fulfilled her role of being _Jane Hopper, plastic popular girl with a heart of gold._

And when they'd pass each other in the halls, he would still catch her eye, except it no longer held any meaning at all. No resentment, no joy, no emptiness, just, nothing. It was as if her eyes had never had that sparkle. Like it was some kind of horrible dream that could never have been.

When senior year rolled around, Mike didn't even think about her. It was like he was on autopilot. He would write his D&D campaigns and go to school. Distract himself with trips to the arcade, with the party.

And he didn't even see El at graduation. He didn't see her, even when her name was being spoken into a cheap microphone in the Hawkins High auditorium. He didn't see the way she had changed in the past year. He didn't see that she had cut her hair. He didn't smell her old strawberry shampoo. He didn't see that she had ditched her varsity jacket. He didn't see her yelling at Stacey on the last day of finals. He didn't see that she had kept one of his old notes hung up in her locker. He didn't see her longing looks in math class. He didn't see the slight twinkle come back to her eyes as she shook the dean's hand. He didn't see her beat-up white sneakers. He didn't see _her_.

He saw Jane. _Not El, but Jane_. And that's why he didn't have a type. He had a _dream_. And that's all it ever was. There was no El Hopper, and there never would be.

It took him about five minutes to get to Benny's from his dorm, so making it there was easy on any normal day. But then again, the world always seemed to be against Michael Wheeler. So when Mike was about halfway, it only made sense that it would start raining.

"Shit-" he breathed as he pulled his jacket hood up around his head, his breath fanning out in front of him in a thick fog. His old beat-up sneakers pounded against the ground as he picked up speed to get to the diner, stepping in several puddles in the process.

When he finally arrived, he saw Dustin walk out of the new glass doors. He looked dejected, as if he'd just spent his life's savings on lottery tickets and lost every single time.

"Hey." _Wow, was he really that out of breath?_ It sounded like he was struggling to breathe. Well, maybe because he was, but that's not the point. "Did he buy it?"

Dustin looked up at him and smiled. "Yep. Said he didn't like writing essays either."

Mike sighed and slapped his friend on the back. "Thanks, man." He moved past him and leaned back into the door to open it. "We're still on for tonight right?"

Dustin turned to him and grinned. "You know me and Lucas wouldn't miss a Star Wars marathon for the world."

"Awesome. See you later!" He raised his hand in a mock salute before turning back around to walk inside.

He heard Dustin laugh from behind him. "See you."

Mike stepped onto the red and white checkered tile of Benny's diner, immediately feeling the warmth of the room thawing his chilled body. It was around the time that people were finishing up brunch and being replaced with customers who were getting lunch, so it wasn't too busy at the moment.

Benny was behind the counter talking to a new employee, Steve. Apparently, he was held back from graduating high school in his senior year, so he was only a junior at Chicago University. However, Mike knew him as the reason why the diner's income was 30% tips, which was nothing to complain about.

Mike took a deep breath before walking past the register to the backroom to get dressed in his work uniform, which in his opinion, was tacky. The cheap material of the button up combined with the gold plated name tag made him think he was some kind of bell boy. Which, coincidentally, he was.

When he was done getting dressed, Mike walked back out towards the register, waiting for Benny to assign him his tables. He was almost done talking with Steve, so he'd just have to wait a few more minutes.

He was absentmindedly sorting the cash in the register when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, the familiar tinkle of the bell making him look around. The only other employee who was working right now was currently talking to his boss, so Mike begrudgingly turned around, his eyes sliding shut as he let out a sigh. "Welcome to Benny's how may I help-"

"Mike?"

He paused then. Not opening his eyes quite yet. Had he imagined it? The way his nose filled with the sweet smell of strawberries? The way her voice picked up ever so slightly? The way his heart skipped a beat? He had to have. It couldn't be her. It just couldn't. She wouldn't remember him. She wouldn't see him. It had to be someone else.

Mike shook it off quickly and opened his eyes. _It's not her. It can't be her. It just can't be._

And his breath caught. Because it _was_ her. Not Jane. No, this could never be Jane. The way her honey eyes shined in the cheap lighting of the diner, the way her eyebrows wrinkled together in confusion, the way her hair remained curly despite it being soaking wet. He knew this girl. Even if it felt like some kind of far off dream, he remembered that voice, that smile, those eyes-

"El."


	2. I Knew You Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so it's before class and I have like, five mins before im busted so ill make this quick
> 
> Tysm for all of the comments and kudos! You have no idea what it means to me. This is my first time posting my work online so it's SUCH a relief to know people like it!
> 
> This chapter is mainly establishing relationships and building on back story and setting, so you're in for some wordy descriptions and mushy romantic musings. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

He shouldn't be here.

_Why is he here?_

_Why did he have to be here?_

On today of all days, she just had to run into him. With his _stupid_ adorable smile and his _stupid_ fluffy hair and his _stupid_ cute freckles.

It had to be today. 

El knows she's staring but god, she can't help it. It's like she's drowning in his _eyes_ , and his _freckles_ , and his _oh-so-kissable lips-_

_No. Nope. Not today._

_You just broke up with your boyfriend like two hours ago, and you’re already flirting with another guy?_

  
Well, to be fair, she kind of hated Troye, but she really liked Mike. Like _really_ liked Mike. I mean, what's the harm in a bit of flirting? It never hurt anyone.

_He might even play along._

Her thoughts are cut off by a familiar head of bright red hair coming to stand at her side. 

"Tough luck. Going out to a so-sad-I'm-single-now lunch, just to run into the crush you've had for 7 years. Classic El,” the redhead says, leaning one of her elbows on El’s right shoulder.

Mike smiles in recognition, “Hey Max, nice to see you-”

Max flips him off with a glare, ignoring him as she continues to address El, ”Well, I'll go grab us a table, and you two,” she gestures to El and Mike, “are gonna stay up here and chat. Good luck." She finishes off by patting El on the back and walking down the counter towards a slightly older looking waiter. 

El would have reacted, but she couldn't move. She couldn't talk, hell, she could hardly breathe. 

_He's so much taller-_

Mike blushed and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Is that good or bad?" 

_Oh shit._

She said that out loud, didn't she? Her cheeks heat up, and immediately she goes to correct herself.

"N-no! I mean, it's good! Really good! I mean, it works on you- but really what wouldn't work on you! You're just- just- oh my god I need to shut up." She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, catching her breath and feeling almost all of her blood rush to her cheeks. 

"Uh- thanks…" He’s looking down at the register, his hair hiding his eyes as he plays with a loose thread on his apron. "I mean, you've changed too- I like the hair- and I think the last time I saw you wearing something like this was-" 

"Seven years ago," She smiles, "I know." She blushes and looks down at her scuffed-up sneakers. She had to admit- they’re starkly different from her pristine white ones from cheer practice. 

"So- do you go to school here?" He sounds nervous, but El decides to brush it off.

_It's probably nothing._

"Yeah. I'm a psych major. Wanna get into social work." She bites her lip, holding back the smile that is slowly creeping onto her features. "So, I'm assuming that you go to school here too."

He laughs softly, running a hand through his mop of hair. "Yeah, I'm a biology major, but I'm still not sure what I want to do yet. It's really cool that you want to do social work though," he says.

El feels a slight blush rise to her cheeks. "You really think so?" 

_Too enthusiastic. Do something to try and seem cool!_

She nervously tucks a stray curl behind her ear before clearing her throat lightly. "That’s a first! Most people just shake their heads and say it's a waste of time,” she says.

Mike smiles. “So you’re like, a nerd again? Niche hobbies, misunderstood dreams, all that?”

El laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. It's really great to-" 

"Hey, Ellie!"

El felt herself deflate a little as she turned to look at Max, shit-eating-grin and all. Mike seems to startle as well, abruptly slamming the cash register shut and effectively scaring the shit out of an unsuspecting Co-worker. 

"The point of lunch is to eat, not chat up loverboy. Get your ass over here and order some fries," Max says, smug. She’s waving a laminated menu in the air, gesturing for El to come and sit.

"Shit- sorry- I've got to-" El makes a gesture to Max's direction as she starts walking backward.

"Uh- yeah, yeah! I'll Uh- talk to you later?"

"You know it." 

"Cool beans."

El giggled slightly. "Yeah, cool beans."

* * *

_Cool beans?_

_You haven't seen this girl for what feels like 7 years and all you can manage to say is "cool beans"?_

_You're fucking hopeless._

Mike watches as El slides into the booth, instantly letting his head fall to the counter with a soft thud once he’s convinced she can’t see him.

_I'm such a wastoid._

"You know her?" 

Mike turned his head to glance in the direction of the voice. It was Benny. He has a towel slung over his shoulder and a clipboard in his hand, probably preparing to give him today's assignments.

He makes no move to stand up, still slumping over the counter. "Uh- kind of. An old friend." He honestly didn't mean to sound so crestfallen, but what can you do when you're literally the scum of the earth?

"She likes you." 

" _What_?" Mike shoots up, in turn hitting his hand on the underside of the counter. 

_"GAH! FUCK!"_

The whole diner turns to look at him, watching him hold his own hand, which is slowly turning dark scarlet from the impact. A few customers are giggling, some families are glaring at him, a professor at a table in the corner rolls her eyes.

_Maybe I need a new job_.

Slowly, the giggling quiets down, only leaving a few people who are still laughing. Mike looks over to the source of the noise to see Max doubled over on the table, grasping onto a hand from across the booth, and El, looking at him, eyes filled with mirth as she tries to quell her laughter. 

_You really haven't changed at all, have you?_

"-got it?"

Mike looks over to see Benny scribbling down some notes on his clipboard, his eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for a reply.

"What?"

Benny stops writing and gives him a knowing look, turning back to his clipboard. "You're closing up today. Steve has a midterm so you're going to take over his tables after he leaves. You've got B-section today, so that's those tables over there-" He gestures to a couple of booths that seat a few families. "-and Steve has A-section-" he gestures over to a group of tables by the door, one of which being taken up by Max and El. Mike gulps.

"So, you're going to be busy today. Steve's heading out in 20, so until then I need you to just take care of your section- which means no flirting." Benny absent-mindedly jabs his pen in the direction of the girl's booth, and before Mike can speak up, Benny takes over again. 

"That's it for today, so get to work." 

Mike nods and grabs the notepad sitting by the register. He’s only just started walking towards his section when Benny stops him.

"-and Mike?" 

He looks back over his shoulder at his boss. "Yes, sir?" 

"Don't break the register." 

Mike looked over to the object in question. Apparently, when he'd slammed it shut earlier a few bills and coins had spilled out- leaving a small pile of change on the floor. 

_Great_. 

"G-got it." He smiles awkwardly and continues walking towards his section. 

* * *

"God- did you see that!?"

Max was still laughing. Apparently, people getting hurt is _hilarious_. Even more hilarious though was the fact that she knew El had the biggest, most _embarrassing_ crush on none other than _Mike_ , _dorky freckles_ , _Wheeler_.

_Well, to be fair- Mike getting hurt was a little funny. Sad, but funny._

_This, however- was not._

El knew she had a huge crush on him. She's known for _years_. But _thinking_ of your crush and _actually seeing_ your crush are two completely different things. Because when they aren't around it's so much easier to quiet the rapid beating of your heart. But he's here. Even if she doesn't want him to be.

_Also, when your crush isn't there it is proven to be 100% easier to not stare at them awkwardly._

She could hear the sound of Max's laughter, as well as a few giggles coming from herself, but they were faint in contrast to the loud thump in her chest.

He hasn't changed a bit. The way his hair falls into his face when he looks down. The way his freckles move across his skin as he talks. The way his eyes meet hers- 

_Wait_.

_Holy shit! He's looking at me!_

As Els's eyes met his it suddenly felt like all time stopped and everything else faded away. The diner, neon lighting, Max's hand grasping onto her arm, it all just faded to black. And it was just her and him. El and Mike.

_It reminded her of when they met._

She remembered the scuff of his sneakers on the tile floor as he walked into the room. She had been doodling in one of her notebooks and had looked up at the sound. And when she raised her eyes to his, it had felt the same as it did in the diner. 

The way her pulse quickened. The way his eyes widened. The way she felt her cheeks heat up as his eyes scanned her face. And he had smiled and sat next to her. 

_Except now he knew better. Now he knew to stay away._

Then his eyes snapped away from hers in an instant and the moment was over.

"Hey- earth to El?" 

El turned to look at Max. She had moved her hand down to El's and was absentmindedly tracing her palm lines. Her eyes were concerned as they bore into her own. 

"S-sorry- I just- I don't know what's going on with me." El looked down to their hands and felt a small smile tug at her lips.

_At least I have Max._

"Listen- I know Troye was an asshole and all, but seriously, it's ok to feel sad about it. Even if you hated being with him, it was still five years, it was still a part of your life." 

El laughed softly at that. "Yeah, just like those fucking cheer uniforms were a part of our life." 

Max laughed and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "God- I'm so glad high school is over."

"Same." El smiled as she looked into her friend's eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she looked this happy.

"And Hey- maybe if you're lucky, string bean over there might just ask for your number." Max smiled that all too well-known smirk before yelping in pain from El slapping her arm. 

"You ass." 

* * *

Mike had been at work for about 30 minutes now. That normally meant that he would've dealt with at least 13 customers. But ever since El had walked in he had felt… distracted. 

_So, of course, it had to be today that his workload had been doubled. And of course one of his customers had to be none other than Jane Hopper._

"Hey- uh Mike right?"

Steve had just changed out of his uniform and was carrying his bag. 

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about that. I know that I'm leaving right before lunch rush hour." 

_Wait… did he actually feel bad?_

_No. No way. Steve fucking Harrington having empathy? No. Never gonna happen._

"I get it. Midterms can be a pain in the ass." Mike is trying his best to not look pissed off, and it seems to work well enough. 

"Thanks, man." He pats his back and Mike holds back a yelp that nearly escapes him from the impact. "Oh- table eleven hasn't ordered yet, so I'd suggest getting their order soon before Benny kicks them out for loitering." 

Mike nods weakly, doing his best to push away the pain spreading across his back. "Y-yeah. Good luck." 

Just as the bell of the front door rings he looks over to table eleven, and lo and behold it's none other than the girl he keeps embarrassing himself in front of and her red-headed sidekick.

El and Max are chatting idly, Max swiping through her phone while El is reading the menu.

Mike takes a deep breath. _You can do this, you can do this, you can do this._

_Here goes nothing._

"Hey! Welcome to Benny's, I'll be your server today! Are you both ready to order?"

_God Wheeler, turn it down a notch, you don't get paid minimum wage to scare away customers with your enthusiasm_. 

Mike stares at them both for a second. El is looking directly into his eyes, her face is contorted into a slightly shocked but happy expression. Her cheeks are reddening. 

_Oh god I was too excited, wasn't I? Fucking dumbass._

Max clears her throat. "Yeah, we're ready to order." She looks over to El who shoots back a pleading look. "Sorry about her, El just isn't used to talking to a guy she thinks is cute."

_Wait what?_

"MAX!" 

"What- it's not like you're the only girl here who's eyeing Wheeler like he's a cold drink on a hot summer's day." 

El has her head in her hands, her blush is so bright it's almost as if you can see it through the backs of her hands. Mike has never been more confused in his life. 

Max is reading off her order and Mike is trying his best to get it all written down, never really pulling his gaze away from El. 

"-and hold the tomato. That shit is disgusting." 

Mike quickly returns his attention to Max and nods before turning right back to El. She's pulled her head up from her hands and is looking up at him with glassy eyes and burning cheeks, and Mike can't help but break slightly out of character. 

"And Uh- what about you?" 

Her eyes widen a bit before she quickly glances back down to her menu nervously. 

_Shit- I must sound like some kind of creep. Get it together you idiot_!

But his thought is interrupted by El looking back up at him with a shy smile. 

"Can I get a waffle?" 

_Mike swears he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming._

* * *

Back in middle school, Mike hated waffles. He would always argue that they were too crunchy or that they were bland. 

(He thought pancakes were superior in literally every sense of the word.)

But then he met El, and as he began to spend time with her, he slowly learned more about her. One of the things he learned about her early on into their friendship was the fact that she loved waffles. Specifically the freezer type. 

Mike would argue that they were gross and awful, to which El would reply, "Well maybe you should try my waffles then."

(That always made him blush, and El would laugh her giggling laugh in reaction.) 

But it wasn't until she started having sleepovers with the party that he actually got around to trying freezer waffles. 

It was their third sleepover and El had decided that "enough was enough!" And that she was bringing Eggos over to share with the party. 

Mike was making excuses to avoid trying them, ("I just had a snack sorry-", "waffles are a breakfast food!", "we just had dinner.") so El had decided to wait until morning. They went to sleep and El left the small container in the freezer. 

Mike was relieved and went to sleep easily, ready to wake up in the morning and deny them again. 

But he woke up only 2 hours later to the sound of labored breathing to his right. El was curled up in her sleeping bag, breathing heavily and crying.

Mike was immediately flooded with concern. He sat up in his sleeping bag and scooted closer to her shaking form, watching as sobs wracked through her body. 

_She's having a nightmare._

Mike raised a shaking hand to her shoulder and shook her gently. "El- hey- El wake up." His voice was soft and just barely held back a heap of anxiety that threatened to break free in his tone. 

When she didn't wake up Mike quickly slipped out of his sleeping bag and knelt beside her, careful not to wake Will, who was sleeping off to his left. 

He leaned over her and put a firm hand on her upper arm, which was still shivering with fear.

"El- El wake up!" His voice unintentionally came out a little louder this time, and his tone was thickly laced with worry. He was shaking her arm with a little more force, but he was still pretty gentle. 

Suddenly El gasped and sat bolt upright, looking around as her breath came out in sobs. She caught sight of Mike and immediately came crashing into him, wrapping her arms around his torso as her head came to rest underneath his chin.

He wordlessly wrapped his arms around her shaking form, gently tracing comforting circles onto her back. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other as muffled sobs echoed through the basement. The only other sound being Dustin's gentle snoring and Will and Lucas's quiet breathing.

As her sobs came to an end Mike reached a gentle hand to brush his hands through her hair. She looked up at him, eyes puffy and cheeks splotched pink, it made his heart squeeze in his chest. 

"Do you want to go upstairs and get some water?" He asked her cautiously, hoping that he wouldn't set her off into another fit of sobs. And to his relief, she nodded. 

He sat up and pushed the hair out of his face, turning to look at the clock on the wall. It's nearly obscured by the dim lighting of the basement, but Mike can just make out the smaller hand.

_Midnight_.

Mike pushes up onto his feet and waits for El. She's still rubbing tears from her eyes as she stands up to meet him. 

"Are you ok?" He didn't even really say it. It was just instinct, as if her being ok was more important than anything else. 

She nods as she stares up at him. And even though they're just standing in the Wheeler basement, it still feels like more. Like they're the only two people in the world right now. 

He smiles softly before jerking his head in the direction of the stairs. She takes the hint and follows shortly behind him as he walks up the stairs. 

They're about halfway up the stairs when Mike feels a cold hand slip into his. 

He turns around, eyebrows furrowed with concern as she looks up at him in the darkness.

"You ok?"

There's a long pause before El's hand squeezes his one, two, three times. It's not exactly an answer, but Mike understands and continues climbing the stairs, warmth spreading across his chest.

_Calm down. She's just a friend._

_Just a friend._

When they reach the top of the stairs Mike immediately makes a beeline for the pantry, opening the top cupboard and pulling down a glass to get her water. He fills the cup before twisting the handles of the sink, letting the water dribble to a stop. He's about to turn around when he sees a flash of honey brown hair out of the corner of his eye. 

El is perched on the counter next to the sink, a smile on her face and a plastic container clutched in her hands. Mike's heart kick starts in his chest, quickly going back to the quick rhythm it always seems to have around El. 

_Just a friend._

Mike fights to roll his eyes. "El its midnight- are you really going to eat waffles at midnight?" It's a question he doesn't need to ask, he knows the answer, and he knows that now that she's awake, she won't go back to sleep until he's tried one.

"Gimme a bite." He sounds defeated, and El can't help but giggle.

She pops the container open and hands over one of the waffles. She watches as he studies it as if it's some kind of foreign artifact that might curse him or something. She's laughing now, it's quiet, so it's only just enough so that Mike can hear it. "Just try it." She says between laughs.

Mike looks at her and smiles before taking a bite. 

Mike always hated waffles, they were too hard or too soft- too savory or too sweet- never just right. But as he chews the frozen waffle in his hands, looking over to her as her tinkling laughter fills the air, it's never been more perfect.

* * *

For awhile, waffles were his favorite food. Sweet and warm and light- just like her. They would share them during lunch at school and eat them at nearly every sleepover. He thought that he could never hate the taste of waffles ever again.

But then she ditched him. 

And slowly, waffles lost that good taste. They went from the sweetness of your first time trying fruit to the bitterness of your first sip of espresso. Just a simple look at a box of Eggos left a bitter taste in his mouth. Much like how looking at her did. 

So as he stares down at her now, notepad in hand as she looks up at him expectantly, he's suddenly overwhelmed by a sweetness that floods his senses.

_He's craving waffles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments. They feed my soul and make me smile like an idiot. So please help me be an idiot. 
> 
> See ya!
> 
> I did some edits, rephrasing with some tense corrections to make it flow a bit better. I wanna update once it hits one year from the og post :)


	3. Honey-Brown Hair, Black Lungs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Let me start off by saying thank you for all your comments and kudos. Its one of the reasons im so inspired to continue this story, so thank you so, so much.
> 
> secondly, this is my favorite chapter I've written so far. 
> 
> i mean yeah Mike and El really don't interact at all but writing a bit of Els backstory always is a treat. Plus, i love writing the boys just sitting around talking shit. it's my favorite. 
> 
> anyways, Enjoy!

_God_ , it's been so long since she's had a waffle. Being a student in college is rough, but not being able to afford waffles? Well, that's just _torture._

"So- in your honest opinion- what's sweeter- Eggos or Wheeler?" 

Max has this smirk that's so smug El has to physically hold herself back to keep from punching her in her stupidly adorable freckled face. 

"You're too much." El smiles.

"I know, you love it though." 

They had spent most of their time eating in silence. El can't say that she particularly liked it, but she also can't complain. Max was right. Even if Troye was a super awful person, she dated him for five years. The silence had given her some time to think and just… _breathe._ Those five years were in the past. This was now. 

_And if “now” included Mike Wheeler, she certainly wasn't complaining._

"So… You've got a thing for nerds- huh?" 

El looks over to Max, confused. She's holding a black umbrella over their heads as they walk back to their dorm. 

"I- what?" 

"Mike. Don't think I didn't notice that napkin you were writing on earlier." Max teased.

"I was just- drawing." 

"Yeah, you did draw a few hearts-" El hits her arm. "Hey!" She's laughing now, even though El had definitely bruised her. 

El giggled. “Shut up! I mean yeah, he's cute but, it's… Mike.”

Max hummed softly, feigning disinterest.

You see, when it came to love, Max never really interacted. She preferred to… _observe_ and… _investigate._ It was kind of a side effect of the whole, _'I'm a bad-ass cheerleader who runs this school and no one can live up to my standards'_ thing. She thought she'd grow out of it but for some reason, it had stuck.

Max knew she was a bitch. But she still thought she was one of the nicer bitches. At least she didn't pretend to be all innocent like _Jenny._

_Jenny with her stupid boyfriend Lucas and his stupid eyes and stupid snap-back hats and stupid hair-_

_Ok, we're getting ahead of ourselves here._

El’s giggles were dying down now and the soft pitter-patter of rain on their umbrella filled their ears, creating a calming sort of silence.

"So, are you planning on visiting him again anytime soon?" Max was twirling the umbrella above them with one hand, spinning it like a redheaded Mary Poppins.

"Probably," El answered immediately before flushing and correcting herself. "I-I mean not just for Mike!" She was shaking her hands in front of her dramatically, taking in deep breaths. "Their waffles were pretty good too." 

"Yah-huh." Max smiled and looked up at their dorm building as they approached. They had been moved in a little less than a month ago, and yet it felt more like a home than anywhere Max had ever been. 

"I'm serious Max. It's been five years since we've talked, there is no way he still feels the way he did." 

Max laughed as they reached the cheap metal awning by the door, taking the umbrella down and shaking it off, making sure to get a few droplets on El. 

"Yeah, just like how waiters chat up their customers while they're on paid time." She keeps laughing and pushes the door open with her back, looking at El with raised eyebrows.

"Haha." 

They climb the stairs in silence, walking up 3 flights until they finally reach their room. The hallway is beaten up, stains line the walls and carpet. It's gross, to be honest, but it's home. The air is musky and thick, filled with the smell of day-old-beer and cigarettes. White paint is chipping off of nearly every door, making the hall seem like the set for a horror movie. 

Their door is just like all the others, chipped and worn on the edges, cheap, rusted lock and a few scratch marks on the door frame. The only difference was the gold, shiny numbers on the door, reading '353'. 

"Uhh" Max is rummaging through her wallet, a frown on her face. She's mumbling to herself, swearing under her breath as she desperately tries to find something.

"What is it?" El is trying to peer up and over her shoulder, but her short height prevents her from seeing anything other than a curtain of red hair. 

"I can't find the room key. Must have left it at the diner." Max grumbles and then turns back to her. "Do you have your copy on you?" 

El shoves her hands into her jacket pockets, looking for her key-chain before sighing. "Shit- I left it on my bedside table." 

Max groans, "Not even a bobby pin?" She looks from Els face to her mop of brown curls, hoping to find _something._

El shakes her head and Max lets out a groan. She's fidgeting with something in her pocket. El knowingly pulls out her zippo lighter, holding it out to her. 

She mumbles a quick "thanks" before pulling out a pack of camels, offering one to El- to which she humbly accepts- and switching on the lighter. El holds out her cigarette to the flame as Max leans forward with hers hanging out of her mouth. They both lean back once they're lit, Max quickly capping the lighter and tossing it back to El. Max takes a long drag and then exhales through her nose, adding to the thick air of the hallway. 

It's oddly familiar _, the way the light hits Els face, the soft parting of her lips, the smoke that easily flows from her mouth._ It reminds her of their sophomore year,their first time trying smokes, their first time genuinely talking since freshman year. 

Their first time talking about how they felt since Stacey's stupid party- since they became popular.

* * *

It was getting late, but Max honestly couldn't sleep. 

Maybe it was the fact that Hop snored in his sleep. Maybe it was the fact that the walls were thin and it was mid-November. 

Or maybe it was Jennifer. _Definitely Jennifer._

El was having a sleepover in celebration of Hawkins beating Terre Haute in their annual football face-off. Max had tried to convince her that they needed to have a sleepover with just them two, but Stacey just kept insisting and persisting until El finally snapped.

Max sat up, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the queen-sized bed she and El were currently sharing. She carefully stepped over a few girls in sleeping bags, making sure not to wake anyone who was sleeping on the floor as she made her way to the door. 

Max stepped out of the bedroom and walked over to the cabin door, slipping on a pair of boots that belonged to El. She looked over to the shelf by the door, noticing a Bic lighter and an old pack of cigarettes, and before she knew what she was doing, she had grabbed them and opened the rickety cabin door. 

The fall air was cold on her bare legs, making her shiver under the thin material of her oversized T-shirt. She lightly closed the door behind her before taking a seat on the old wooden steps, setting down the lighter in her hands and pulling out a cigarette. 

_So much for Ms. Perfect cheerleader._

Max had pulled the cigarette up to her lips, gently clasping the lighter in her other hand. She was about to flick it on when she heard a quiet creak from behind her. She quickly shoved the items into her lap, preparing for a scolding from one of the bitches from the squad, when she heard the strangers voice. 

"Max? What are you doing out here?" 

El was wearing an old sweatshirt (Max knew it had once belonged to Mike, but she never brought it up. That always ended in tears.) and a pair of leggings. Despite it being freezing outside, she seemed to be unfazed by the cold, quickly taking a seat next to Max after quietly shutting the door. 

"Thinking." Max looked down at her lap and fidgeted with the lighter, no longer worried about getting banned from the socially elite. 

"Is that Hop's lighter?" She didn't sound mad, more intrigued than anything else. 

Max nodded before wordlessly pulling out another cigarette and holding it out to her. "I was thinking of trying a cigarette. Mom always says they help when Billy's being a prick."

El took the cigarette and nodded, not pressing her any further. That's why Max loved El. She never forced anything out of her, but she still cared. 

"Gimmie that." She pointed to the lighter in Max's hand, looking at it with a blank stare. She obliged and set it into her open palm. The brunette flicked it on and the flame danced in the chill of the night. 

El made a sort of gesture, like she was asking her to come closer, and Max quickly understood. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and leaned towards the flame, lighting the end as El did the same. 

The way the flame hit El's eyes made them sparkle with orange, and for some odd reason, Max suddenly felt something shift. Where the air used to be filled with concern and coldness, it suddenly filled with warmth and domesticity. As the moment ended, Max realized the feeling stayed, and she quickly took a drag from her cigarette.

Next to her, El let out a sputtering cough, and Max quickly followed, her coughs coming out in hazy puffs. 

"God- I knew it- burned but this- is so much worse than I- imagined." Els coughs were slowly descending into quiet giggles, just barely managing to get her words out in between. 

Max laughed too, and after a few minutes the burning became more bearable, and she took another hit. 

"So- I've been thinking-" Max turned to look at El, she was looking down at her pristine white sneakers and taking another drag. "-Maybe we should quit the squad." 

Max felt her eyebrows quirk up and her face scrunch. When she spoke, her words came out in clouds of smoke. "Why?" 

El didn't meet her eyes, she simply pulled at one of the strings of her sweatshirt, smoke hanging in clouds around her, and for some reason, Max understood. 

"You miss him." 

This time El looked up to meet her eyes. They were glassy and unfocused, as if she was on the verge of tears. 

"Oh- El." She reached out one hand and easily took her into her arms. El leaned into her chest and Max felt tears soaking through the front of her shirt. 

Max heard her sniffle and tightened her grip around her. "I-I keep s-seeing h-him, during passing periods w-while I'm with T-Troye... a-and I k-keep trying to reach him, t-to tell him that I-I m-miss him, but he never says a-anything-" Her tears are growing heavier and her breaths are becoming shorter. "W-what if he h-hates me?" 

Max knew about her feelings for Mike. She knew about her non-existent feelings for Troye. But until now, she hadn't realized that she felt _guilty._

Max looked down at El in her arms and saw the tears staining her face, the pout on her lips, but for some reason, she still looked beautiful. And then that feeling was back, that feeling of finally holding someone who cared, even if it wasn't romantic. There was that desire for intimacy, the want of something that made you feel loved. 

"No one could ever hate you."

And Max knew that maybe everything would be okay. 

* * *

_Mike seriously needed a raise._

After Steve left for his test, the diner had flooded with people. That was to be expected, and on any other day, Mike could've probably handled it. 

But today was different. 

Even after El and Max left it had felt odd. Like the diner was just the tiniest bit colder, or the music was just a little less happy. 

It didn't help that Max had left their room key at the diner. 

It _also_ didn't help that El had left her phone number. 

It was around eight, meaning they were closing soon, leaving the diner pretty much empty. At this point, Mike was expecting Max to stop by tomorrow, assuming that El had her copy of their room key and had gotten in easily. 

But then again, _were they even roommates?_

_She probably lives in a co-ed dorm with some guy. Some guy like Troye._

That sent him spiraling.

Why did she give me her number? Why was it a "break-up lunch"? Also, what exactly is a "break-up lunch"? Why did she doodle so many goddamn hearts on that napkin?! Am I a reb-

Mike's train of thought ended as the familiar ring of a bell reached his ears, sighing and pushing his thoughts aside for later. When he looked up, he had expected any other person to be there. Any other person would've been _great_ , but of course, he wasn't that lucky.

_Fuck you too, universe._

Her hair was a bit messier than it was earlier, honey-brown strands still gently curling at the ends, but now slightly frayed, as if she had been playing with the tips. Her sweatshirt looked slightly more rumpled; it was the kind of sweatshirt you would get at an underground heavy metal concert. It had some kind of grayish-black powder on the sleeve and the cuffs were rolled up slightly, revealing her short nails that were covered by chipped black polish. The bags under her eyes had somehow grown darker, the obvious stress of the day crashing down on her. 

To most, she would have looked like _hell._

Mike _strongly_ disagreed.

"Hey, Wheeler- so funny story-" Max had ran up to the counter, quickly turning around and hopping up to sit on it. "-we kind of left our apartment keys here. I wanted to come and get them earlier, but Ellie didn't think that was such a stellar idea; it being lunchtime and all. She thought we should come around closing time so… here we are." Max was swinging her legs impatiently, towering over him with her new added height from the counter. Despite himself, Mike let out a chuckle at her antics. 

El was still hesitant, hanging back as Max talked. Mike let his eyes meet hers once Max had finished, trying to show his gratitude. 

"Thanks, that was thoughtful. It was probably for the best…" Els eyes widened, almost scared. "I was covering for someone else's shift today." Mike saw El visibly relax. He was about to ask her about it when Max spoke up again.

"Ok, enough googly-eyes or whatever the hell you two are doing right now. I need my keys, and I need a smoke." 

Mike nodded, trying to ignore the way his face grew hotter. "Y-yeah right, s-sorry." He ducked beneath the counter quickly, grabbing the keys. 

When he stood back up, he saw El fiddling with a pack of camels, pulling out two cigarettes with a shaky hand and holding one out to Max. They didn't seem to notice him watching, so he just stood silently. Max took the stick happily but kept her hand outstretched. El sighed and grabbed a zippo out of her pocket, she gestured to Max with the hand holding the cigarette, her other one swiftly flicking the lighter to life. Max put the cigarette in her mouth and leaned forward towards the dancing flame, using two of her fingers to steady it between her lips. El simply held hers to the flame, letting it catch before lifting her hand to her face, cigarette wedged between her index and middle finger, taking a drag.

Really, Mike can't help but stare. Because not only did Jane Hopper _-popular, beloved Jane Hopper_ \- smoke, but she kind of looked hot while doing it. 

Mike was pretty much shell-shocked. He wasn't a priss or anything- _no,_ actually, he still had the occasional smoke break at work- but he knew for a fact that most of the popular girls at Hawkins High were. In Hawkins, it was widely known that junkies were in a neutral standing in the social hierarchy, above nerds and band geeks, but below the drama and glee club. But when it came to the cheer squad, they thought the junkies were trash, lower and more obsolete than everyone else. Because of that, the girls on the cheer squad never really got into drugs. 

_Apparently, Max and El were different_. 

"Uh- helloooooo? Earth to Wheels?" 

Mike snapped out of his thoughts and saw Max glaring at him. She had her hand outstretched, waiting for him to hand over the keys. 

Mike was about to hand them over when something occurred to him. His eyes swung over to El. She was fidgeting with her cigarette, flicking it with her thumb as it rested gently between her fingers. Mike couldn't help but think that she still looked beautiful, even when she was stressed out like this.

_This could be the last time you ever see her_. 

Mike looked back down at Max. She still had her hand outstretched, but her other was holding her cigarette as she took a drag. When she noticed he was looking at her, she scrunched her nose and blew a cloud of smoke in his face. He coughed lightly before swatting the black smog away from his face. 

"Are you giving us the keys or wha-" 

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

_shit._

"What the fu-"

And then the sprinklers came on. 

* * *

"Wait wait wait- you're saying that you didn't know smoking inside would set off the fire alarm?" 

They were about two drinks in. Lucas was only buzzed, but it was clear that everybody else was pretty drunk. 

_Bunch of lightweights._

"I told you I was distracted!" Mike was sprawled out on the couch, his legs making it pretty much impossible for anyone else to occupy the remaining space. When Mike had arrived at Lucas and Dustin's apartment earlier he was soaking wet and stressed out. He still had the beers from Nancy though, so he was quickly forgiven for dripping on the carpet. 

"Yeah- by those girls- and you still haven't told us their names by the way!" Dustin was on the floor at this point. He used to be sitting in their old beat-up la-z-boy, but since then he has slipped out and is now unceremoniously flopped down on the plush carpet. 

"Their names aren't important- what's important is that Benny is going to fire me, and you need to convince him not to." Mike was playing with his hands, nervously picking at the skin on his fingertips.

"Yeah- I will- if you tell me their names." 

"I told you that their names don't-"

"Hey!" 

Mike looked over to the ottoman, seeing his roommate peering over his sketchbook. Will, despite being the quietest of all of them, was the mediator of the group. He always spoke with this kind of calming tone, even when he was slightly upset, like right now. 

The room was silent for a moment, the only sound being Star Wars: a New Hope playing in the background. Will was looking at Mike with an almost concerned look, his eyebrows slightly drawn together. 

"What's wrong? You seem like you're on edge today. You weren't this morning, so I know it has to be something that happened at work today," Will pulled his sketchbook out of his lap and put it down on the end table that was nearby, leaning forward slightly. "so what happened?" 

Mike sat up slowly, taking a deep breath before looking into his youngest friend's eyes. Will had always been understanding, even in situations that were caused by Mike. He knew how all the members of the party worked because they've known each other for so long, so he was always good at knowing what was wrong. 

Mike tapped his foot before taking a final, steadying breath. 

"I saw El today." 

The second he said it every member of the party turned to look at him, even Lucas, who was previously sucked into the movie playing in the living room. 

"Shit- oh my god, dude are you ok? Did she say anything to you?" Dustin sat up on the plush carpet, pushing up with the heels of his hands, never looking away from Mike. 

For as long as Mike could remember- _or, as long as he'd allowed himself to remember-_ his friends had been understanding about his feelings for El. While a part of him tried to deny his feelings, there was always another part of him that just wanted to get it all out in the open. His friends knew him better than anyone, so they knew that El- _or more so, Jane_ \- was a touchy subject. His instincts were telling him to fight against it all, but right now, the part of him that wanted to spill his guts was winning. 

"Yeah. I'm okay. But um- she's changed; since graduation that is. She seems like her old self again." 

Mike was waiting for some kind of reply. Something along the lines of, "that's great!" or "did you ask her for her number?" But what he got was completely different. 

"Are you sure?" Mike looked over to Lucas, his voice cutting the silence like a knife.

"What do you mean?" Mike scrunched his eyebrows together in response, looking confused and… _hurt?_

"I mean, girls like El aren't always who they say they are. Like Max Mayfield-"

Wait- _is he making this about him?_

"Seriously? You're still hung up on her?" Mike groaned. 

Back in freshman year, Lucas had the biggest crush on Max. He would spend days, weeks even, planning ways to ask her out. He never worked up the nerve though. Eventually, sophomore year rolled around- and Jennifer Hayes had ended up asking Lucas to take her to Homecoming. At first, he was hesitant, because he didn't like Jennifer, he _kind of hated her._ But then, he got this idea, it wasn't a good idea, but it was an idea. He would accept Jennifer's invitation, to make Max jealous. The rest of the party had tried to stop him, telling him it was a bad idea, but he hadn't listened. 

When Homecoming came along, he asked Jennifer to be his girlfriend; in front of Max. Max had stormed out of homecoming after that, and when Lucas had tried to follow her, Jennifer had held him back, telling him that she was just a " _jealous slut._ " From then on, Max avoided Lucas, and he never got the chance to explain himself. 

He had ended up dating Jennifer for all of sophomore year and half of junior year before she cheated on him with some girl on the volleyball team at a Halloween party. It shocked everyone, _not only because everyone thought Jennifer was straight_ \- but also because her and Lucas seemed to get along just fine. Even after that, Lucas never got to talk Max. It was probably one of his biggest regrets. 

"Mike- hey- don't be like this-" Will had stood up from his spot on the ottoman, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, trying to calm Mike down. He was drunk- and not acting like himself, he knew that, but the years and years of pain suddenly just started pouring out.

_He knew he was projecting, he just couldn't stop himself._

"No!" Mike shrugged Will's arm off of his shoulder, turning to him as he pointed to Lucas. "You see- even after _all of this_ , after _he_ messed up his chance with Max- he _still_ blames her!" Mike was getting louder and louder; but for some reason, the alcohol mixed with his insecurities, and he didn't care. "Newsflash Lucas! It's your fault. _Your own damn fault!_ And hey, guess what, she seems a lot happier without you around to bother her anymore!" 

Mike caught his breath, his voice still echoing off of the cheap walls of the dorm room. Once the sound had stopped Mike immediately regretted what he had said, he was going to apologize, when-

"Wait- she seems happier? How would _you_ know?" Lucas was eyeing him, holding back his onslaught of harsh words as he tried to find the crux of Mike's anger. 

Mike fiddled with the sleeve of his grey sweatshirt- pulling on a loose thread and twisting it between his fingers. He took a deep breath and looked to Will. He gave Mike a small smile, and that was enough. He took another steadying breath to try and level out his voice before turning back to Lucas. 

"They were at the diner together, I think they share a dorm." Mike was going to leave it at that but Lucas was still looking at him as if to tell him to go on. "At least, it seemed like it when they stopped by. Before the sprinklers went off Max asked for their key, so I just assumed since El tagged along that they were roommates."

"Wait-wait, _they_ were the two that set off the smoke alarms?" Dustin interjected with a look on his face that seemed to be a mix of awe and confusion. Mike nodded and Dustin broke into a short fit of giggles. " _Holy shit!_ I never would've guessed. No wonder you were so distracted!" Dustin snickered, but shut up when will shot him a look that said, _"kindly shut the fuck up."_

Mike's face grew hotter and he rubbed his arms self-consciously. Lucas was thinking to himself silently and Dustin was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that the two goody-two-shoes smoked. Will was watching as it all unfolded, observing how his friends now sat in a kind of half-circle, and despite the obvious tension in the room, he felt a smile quirk his lips. 

Lucas was still thinking this all through when Dustin spoke up. 

"So- did you get her number?" 

Mike groaned. 

_These guys are going to be the death of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe
> 
> leave me comments if you so desire! love you guys!!
> 
> Note: I only fixed one typo in this chapter because it’s still one of the best ones :) I am gonna try and work the sweatshirt bit into the last few chapters though, because it’s always been a part of it, just kinda forgotten.


	4. Figured Out As I Got Sober, That Life Just Sucks When You Get Older

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh
> 
> im back
> 
> so, this chapter shouldn't have taken as long as it did, but i ended up completely redoing the ending for the sake of REALLY putting the slow in a slow burn. 
> 
> also, real quick, im going to give you guys the playlist i listen to while writing this, mainly because it makes me smile whenever i can get into a writer's head, so i love playlists! but if you have anything other than Spotify... uh, sorry lads. fun fact! this chapter is named after a line from the song Sober by FIDLAR, which happens to be on this playlist, so see if you can find it!
> 
> playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2xOxiDS1iScU554cWkrAGI?si=MJR3yukISiaxtAHovDbnwQ
> 
> ok, thats all for now, so enjoy!

Mike was currently tapping his feet in the living room of a run-down frat house. Music was blaring from all directions and the entire place smelled of cheap booze and vomit, a smell that Mike has adoringly named "Teen Spirit." 

So, he hated it. 

He has no idea why he had accepted Lucas's invite. 

_Well… actually…_ yeah, he does. 

It was only yesterday when his _'Most Sane and Trustworthy'_ friend Lucas had texted him, simply saying, "I've cased the joint!!!" The 'joint' just being a fancy name for the party's favorite table in the back of the library. 

And because Lucas was his 'Most Logical Friend', Mike had assumed that he wanted to study for midterms.

_He couldn't have been more wrong._

Imagine his shock when he walked past the librarian's desk to see not only Lucas but also a familiar head of red hair belonging to the one and only Maxine Mayfield. 

Ever since "The Sprinkler Incident"- Dustin's name, not his- Mike has been avoiding Max and El like the plague. Which for some reason, has become increasingly difficult since he _just keeps running into them_. At the diner, at the library, hell, he even ran into them at his favorite cafe a good mile off-campus. 

Lucas however, has been searching nonstop for the pair. It's honestly kinda funny. Anytime Mike runs into Max and El, Lucas has just missed them. Like at the diner, when Lucas had stopped in to say hi- just as the pair took off to the bathroom. Or at the library, where Lucas had gone off to find more information for his statistics essay, disappearing between the stacks just as Max and El passed the table, mountains of textbooks in tow. 

Mike had watched from afar as the firey girl stood up and left, her hands in fists at her sides.

He almost didn't want to approach, because when it came to Lucas and Max, it never led to anything good. But just as Mike had turned around to walk back to his dorm, he heard a loud exclamation of, 

"Mike! Hey! Mike! Mike, Mike! I'm back here buddy!"

As Mike forced a smile onto his face, he caught a glimpse of the librarian at the desk. She was still buried behind piles of books, but now she was wearing an angry scowl as she looked directly at Lucas, holding a wiry finger to her chapped lips.

Mike plopped down directly across from Lucas at the table. The darker-skinned boy was staring at him with an excited look in his eyes, but Mike ignored it and merely pulled out his A and P textbook, opening to the third-

"You'll never guess who was just here!" 

Mike looked up from his book, relaxing his fingers and letting it fall closed as he reluctantly leaned back in his seat, waiting for the inevitable long-winded explanation. "Who?"

Lucas smiled and pulled his forearms onto the table, pretty much hunching over Mike. His eyebrows shot up before he stage-whispered, "Hawkins very own Max Mayfield!"

From behind him, Mike heard a low mumble, which he assumed was the librarian. Mike was pretty sure that if Lucas spoke even the tiniest bit louder, the old hag would come over and silence him for good.

Mike put his hands on Lucas’s shoulders and slowly pushed him back into his seat, a flat expression on his face. “I could see that.” Mike went to open his textbook again, but stopped when Lucas glared at him. He sighed before putting his book back into his bag and zipping it closed. Still not satisfied, Lucas kept his eyes trained on Mike, an expectant look in his eyes. 

Mike looked around the room for a second, admiring the organized shelves while listening to the buzzing of the cheap lightbulb. He's been feeling kind of… down lately. Like, more down than normal, down. He had no idea why. 

Maybe he needed to up his meds. 

_Or maybe it had something to do with El._

_..._

Finally, after about a minute, Mike spoke up. 

“... So what did she want? Your soul?”

Lucas scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “For the last time Mike, Max has a soul!”

Mike smirked. “Prove it.”

“Ok, ok I get it. You don't like her, just- hear me out?”

Mike sagged back into his chair once more, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side to indicate that he was listening.

“Ok… um…” Lucas takes in a deep breath of air as if preparing for something, then, “Max-and-El-wanted-to-invite-you-me-Dustin-and-Will-to-a-sorority-party!”

“What?”

Lucas smiled and laughed, eyes filled with excitement that completely contrasted the utter terror in the dark-haired boys ebony pupils.

“I know right!? I mean what are the odds that we would get invited to some…”

Lucas’s deep voice faded back into the void as his mind came up with anything and everything that could go wrong. 

_I could pass out drunk and humiliate himself._

_I could run into El._

_I could fuck it all up._

Mike already knew his answer. He didn't want to risk it. He just couldn’t do that to himself. _Keep her at a distance. She's happier when you're at a distance. You're happier at a distance._

_At least… I think I am._

“So? Do you wanna come?”

Mind made up, Mike opened his mouth, saying with the least amount of effort:

“Yes.”

_Wait-_

“Great! I'll text you the address! Just make sure to be at the AOii sorority house tomorrow!"

_Tell him you've changed your mind. Tell him you don't wanna go. Tell him-_

"Sure thing." 

_Ugh._

And now here he was, slumping back in his chair, except this time, instead of calming silence and the smell of new books, he was assaulted by pounding drum beats and the particularly potent smell of “Teen Spirit”.

He had _many_ regrets.

* * *

Max stood in front of the mirror in her and El's dorm. She was playing heavy metal music, mainly because she ran into Lucas. And Lucas really pissed her off. 

_God that interaction was awkward._

_How did I even end up inviting him to Jenny's sorority party?_

_Eh, who cares. He'll probably pussy out of it anyway, fucking nerd._

Max took another drag from her cigarette before grabbing a nearby hair tie. She was only just pulling her hair out of her face when the music stopped. 

"Hey! Dude! You turned off my tunes!" Max turned to see El smiling back at her. 

"Your tunes are trash. Besides, I got you the invite to Jenny's in the first place." She smiled and unplugged Max's iPod from the speaker, replacing it with her own. 

El tapped on the small device a few times before smiling wide and giving it a final tap, and just as her finger hit the play button, the opening tune to _Lovefool_ by _The Cardigans_ began. Max looked at her in the mirror and smiled. 

"Really? Right now?" Max raised one of her perfectly penciled in eyebrows to Els's reflection. She wasn't annoyed, she could _never_ be annoyed with her. 

El shrugged and then came and wrapped her arms around Max from behind, giving her soft kisses up the back of her neck.

"I dunno. I guess I'm feeling lonely. Plus you look really hot right now." 

Max smiled and turned around in her arms, wrapping her arms around her waist. 

"I thought you were moping over Mikey? Are you suddenly not attracted to him? Did you finally realize what a nerd he is? Or did you realize that guys just aren't your thing?" She swayed slightly with the music. 

"Well, no, I'm still swinging both ways. And with Mike… I mean- yeah. I am sad but he still hasn't called me back, but it's been a week. Right now, I just need a distraction. So? You down?" She smiled. 

Max mimicked her smile before trailing her hands further down and pulling Els thin legs around her middle. She walked over to her bed and threw them both down on it, causing them to erupt into a fit of giggles. Max laughed softly as she pinned El down by her elbows. 

"Please, I've been down for the past two years." 

* * *

"Great job today girls! Go ahead and pack up!"

El walked over to the bleachers and grabbed her water bottle, wiping the sweat from her hairline as she took a long sip. 

Despite it being cold, Stacey had insisted that they practiced outside. El hated admitting Stacey was right, but… _she was right._ The choreography and long-sleeved uniforms had been more than enough to keep the squad warm. Her legs were still a little cold though, but you know, god forbid girls cover up their legs.

Suddenly, there was a strong arm around her waist. 

"Hey, babe" his gravelly voice hit her neck with a hot breath. 

It somehow made her colder.

She tried her hardest to push all the annoyance and disgust off of her face before turning to face her boyfriend, giving him her fakest smile. 

"Hey, Troye. What is it?" She moved her arms up around his neck, ignoring every nerve screaming for her to stop. 

_I'm doing this for the squad. I'm doing this for Max. It’s for the greater good._

"Uh- it's Valentine's day? We have a date?" He looked at her expectantly. 

_Shit. That's right. It is Valentine's day._

Jane hated Valentine's day. Everyone around her was in a happy, two-sided, healthy relationship, and they just fucking loved to boast about that. It sucked seeing everyone so happy when she hadn't been in years, and it doesn't help that she still misses- whatever.

Of course, she still saw him, but ever since the junior year started, she had started to block him out. It was for the best. He would move on and forget about her, find some other girl and have a few kids… everything she'd wanted with him. She'd paint on a smile and take it in stride, because as long as he ends up happy, she's happy. 

Yet there were still times where it all got to be too much. And for that, there was a simple solution. 

"Oh- jeez, I'm sorry Ty… I’m on my period. I was hoping I could just stay at Max's instead?" She put on her best fake disappointed face, trying her best to sell it. 

He looked her up and down before nodding. "Yeah… yeah- that's fine. I love you. Feel better."

_He knows. He has to know, he's gonna go tell the squad right now. Oh God, oh God, oh God-_

She gulped down her thoughts before shoving the words out, those words that she never meant, the ones that always made her stomach churn with guilt, the ones she never truly felt. 

"Love you too." 

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, trying her best to pull it off before giving him a small wave. It felt like she was a captive in her own body. 

"Ready to motor?" El whipped around to see Max, looming behind her, smile wide as she twirled the keys to her red Mercedes on her index finger. Her body relaxed almost instantly. 

"You know it red." She smiled before threading her fingers with Max's.

El glanced over to the girl and felt warmth swell in her chest. 

Max and El had been hooking up for a few months. There were no strings attached, nothing emotional. It was more like… friends with benefits. Sometimes it was just making out, sometimes it was more. 

For Max, it was a way to take the edge off. Being the most feared person at Hawkins high had its downsides too, like how lonely it gets. Once upon a time, Max had thought she had a chance with Lucas, but he'd proven her so, so wrong. Max knew she could have any guy, but they wouldn't care about her, they'd just want her body. At least with El, she did care, not in a romantic way, but in a way that was just past platonic. A way that made it nice, but not too serious. 

With El, it was the only thing keeping her from going insane. El hated Troye. She hated it when she had to have sex with him, she hated how it made her feel dirty, like she had done something wrong. She hated how she had to fake it every single time. She wanted something real, something passionate and pleasurable, something she would never have with Mike. She hated admitting that he was the reason she was doing this, because she did care about Max, and she knew this helped. But it was about him. With Max, it was pleasurable, just not… passionate. It wasn't romantic, but it was the best she could get, and she would take it gladly. 

They were just two lonely people who needed someone to care for. It would never go anywhere, that's why they liked it so much. 

Max parked her car in front of the cabin, turning off the engine before shooting a gentle glance at El. The radio was still playing softly in the background, something soft and slow that made El feel sick.

"So… do you wanna talk about it?" Max raised her eyebrows sympathetically, looking over to the brown-haired girl. 

"You mean about him?" She stared straight in front of her, out the windshield, her expression void of any emotion. "I don't know, do you wanna hear about it?" 

Max sighed before grabbing El’s hand from her lap. 

"Hey… you know, just because we're like, _hooking up,_ doesn't mean we have to keep secrets." 

A pause. A thumb brushing over knuckles. A concerned smile. 

"It's not anything serious remember? We're just fuck buddies."

El giggled breathily before looking into Max's eyes. She let out a long breath, the kind full of sadness and hopelessness, one she'd been holding in for at least a week. 

"I just…" she turned to look out the front windshield. "I feel like he… knows." 

Max's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Knows? Knows what?_ That's when El pulled her hand back into her lap. 

_Oh._

"You think Mike knows about… _us?"_ Max raised her eyebrows, avoiding looking at El, too scared to find what emotion her face reflected. _Hurt? Fear? Regret?_

"No! No, not Mike… I mean, even if he did know, he'd understand. I mean he's accepting of Will, so…" El was about to go on about how Mike would get it and not judge her, but Max held up a hand to stop her. She knew all too well what El was doing. 

"Ellie, just tell me what's bothering you. Don't change the subject." Max turned and smiled warmly at her friend, who took a deep breath before fiddling with her hands in her lap. 

"I- I'm scared that Troye knows, and that he's gonna tell the whole school about… us." she trailed off before a stray tear fell down her face. "It all makes sense because you know that once Troye knows the Team knows and once the Team knows the Squad knows and suddenly the whole school is calling us awful, terrible things." Tears are streaming down her face and all of a sudden her fear turns to anger. "It's stupid! Why should anyone care who I sleep with!? So what if I wanna make out with girls! It's not that big a dea-" 

And then Max's lips are crashing against hers, meshing with her own as El slowly gets to her senses and reciprocates. El is only feeling in moments like this, how Max's hair tickles her cheeks, how her lips mold to her own, how the soft music in the car suddenly holds new meaning as the opening notes to Lovefool begins to play. 

But after a few minutes, Max pulls away, a serious look on her face. 

"I won't let that happen El. I swear that'll never happen. If he tries it, I'll kick his ass to Kerley county." 

El giggles before unbuckling her seatbelt. 

"Where are you going?" Max crawls over the console and runs after her, like an awkward newborn puppy. 

"I mean… we _could_ just make out in your car but I was thinking maybe we could do something… _more?"_ She bites her lip and looks at Max coyly. "Dad isn't home until nine…" She quirks an eyebrow as a light pink flush comes to her cheeks.

Max giggles before grabbing El's hand and dragging her into the cabin, slamming the door on the close-minded town of Hawkins, Indiana. 

* * *

"I still don't get why we're here." 

Max was slouched on the cheap leather of the sorority houses couch, drinking what she likes to call, "truth serum" which is just watered down vodka. Said she learned it from one of her uncles in Russia. 

_You just can't tell with Max sometimes._

El smiled a shit-eating grin- which was only magnified by her intoxication- before replying smugly. "Well, I mentioned that Jenny invited me to her sorority banger and you said that-" 

" _Don't-_ don't say it." Max dropped her head into her one open hand, rubbing her temples. 

"Y-you said you wanted to go to…" El choked back her laughter, coming out in a soft snort. _"The d-ditz convention."_

El exploded into a fit of laughter, her joy shaking her with each chuckle that left her throat. After a while, she realized that instead of laughter, her throat was bubbling with hiccups. And they showed no sign of stopping. El glanced up at Max, who looked equal parts guilty and entertained.

"Okay, Ellie," Max leaned over and grabbed the cheap plastic bottle from her friend's shaky hands. "I think you've had one too many wine coolers." 

El groaned and let her head fall back onto the couch. 

_"Goddd,_ you're such a buzzkill!" She turned her head to look at her redheaded friend, still letting her neck be supported by the couch. "But you're right…"

"And you're drunk. Go get some water, then I'll leave you alone." Max took a sip from her red solo cup before nodding off in the direction of the sorority house's kitchen.

As El stumbled through the crowd of people, she found herself engulfed by the music. It shook her to her core, pushing her forward towards the kitchen with each pounding drum beat. She grabs for the doorway and overshoots by about two feet, falling face-first onto the floor. 

Then it's dark. 

It's dark and quiet. 

She can faintly hear the sound of fabric shuffling above her, but for some reason, it's muffled. As her vision begins to clear, El makes out a cheap ceiling light above her. It's turned off, so she assumes she's back in her dorm room. 

Maybe Max took her home. 

She lets her eyes slip closed, trying to drown out the faint pounding coming from outside the room. It's strangely rhythmic. 

That's when she feels it. 

A large, calloused hand is making its way up her thighs as a heavy weight pins her arms above her head. Her eyes are just barely able to make out a threatening shadow looming over her. 

And before she could stop them, her deepest fears jump to the forefront of her mind. 

_Dad said he was dead. Why would dad lie? He had no reason to. But then who's on top of her. Why can't she just see his face? Is it him? Did he come looking for her? Is he going to make her come back home? Is he going to shove her into the broom closet again?_

_Oh God, this can't be happening._

__I thought I was safe. I thought_ it was safe. I didn't know it wasn't safe. _

El squirms underneath the weight on top of her. She pushes and shoves it, trying to get it to back down, but all her attempts miss and her vision is fading again. 

"Come on babe, don't be like that- I said I was sor-"

There's a faint crash coming from somewhere and the figure springs off of her frantically. El squeezes her eyes shut, the sudden stream of light from far away invading her senses.

"What the fuck is going on!?"

Wait… 

I know that voice. 

it's-

"Mike?"

"Yeah, El?"

Her eyes snap open. 

It's dark. Except for this time, she knows she's back in her dorm room. The smell of vanilla candles and cigarettes waft through the air, making her nerves settle.

"Wh- how did I-"

Bile rises in her throat and she sits bolt upright. Something is shoved into her hands and then she's throwing up a disgusting fruity concoction. It burns her throat, and she wants it to end, but then it just keeps coming. 

Distantly she can feel fingers drawing calming circles on her back, hands holding her hair back and soft, soothing mumbles. 

When It's over the hands leave her and grab the bucket from her hands, replacing it with a cold cup of water. El gulps it down instantly. 

"I'm sorry." 

She looks up at Mike. Her vision still isn't entirely clear, but she can tell it's him. It feels like him. 

"Don't apologize. You're not the one who got me drunk." Her words are rough in her throat, coming out in dry croaks, "That was all me, buddy." 

Mike lets out a breathy laugh before taking the glass from her hands, standing up from her mattress and disappearing behind her. She groans as a shot of pain goes through her head, falling back into her pillows as her eyes squeeze shut. 

When she opens them again it's bright outside. 

There's a note on her side table. 

_You got super wasted last night. I drove you home. Max knows. There's Asprin and some other stuff in the grocery bag on your desk. Feel better. -Mike_

When she trudges across the room and digs into the grocery sack, she finds the Asprin, some ibuprofen, and a box of Eggo Waffles.

Despite feeling like complete shit, El smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, as always, comments are loved and accepted with giddy laughter and nerdy rants. stay healthy and I hope to see you all soon with the next chapter.
> 
> Edits made on 2/24/21, inconsistency’s and a bit of rephrasing


	5. I Hate Worrying About the Future, Cause All My Current Problems Are Based Around the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo ok now we actually start to get into the real shit, so just to let you know, it’s gonna get kinda angsty.
> 
> please enjoy!

El likes to think she's a smart person. That she studied hard and worked her ass off and got a full ride to Chicago University as a Psych major. You know, what her student files and college acceptance letters told her. 

Then there were days like this that would yet again prove just how much of an idiot she was. 

Sunday morning after Jenny's party sucked. It was too bright and every single movement she made seemed to kill about a thousand brain cells. 

_Why she ever thought those cheap-ass wine coolers were a good idea, she'll never know._

The painkillers and Eggos Mike left her helped a little bit, but not enough for her to get up and do the studying she was planning on.

_As if she could study statistics like this._

So she just sat in bed, gulping down enough water to fill a small lake and enough Eggos to feed a family of four. 

She still feels like shit, but her head’s throbbing at a much slower pace now, if that means anything. 

Needless to say, she spent all of Sunday curled up in bed while she watched reruns of _I Love Lucy_ that came with her cable subscription, eating Eggos and ignoring the headache she had.

She isn't entirely sure exactly when she fell asleep, but she knows she did. Mainly because one minute she was angry at Thomas (or whoever the fuck did Lucy wrong this time), and the next she was opening her eyes to find a tall, and slightly distraught, redhead standing over her.

"I've paged you five fucking times. Where the fuck were you?"

You see that's the funny thing about Max. Unless you knew her, you'd never be able to tell that she was one of the most empathetic people to ever walk the earth. 

Well, maybe empathy wasn't the best way to describe it, it was more like… 

She was always aware of how others felt, she just never really… 

Cared?

_Yeah, that sounds right._

With the few people Max did care about though, she never really outwardly showed how she felt. At least, not often. 

So where everyone else would've seen a flat look, El saw her best friend's unwavering concern. And it made her feel like absolute shit.

El groaned and sat up, feeling as if every movement caused her entire head to shrink into itself even more. Her brain is probably halfway to mush at this rate.

"Hey, Max. Sorry for last night-"

Max laughs softly, but her concern is still burned into her features, the way she sighs before slouching into place at the foot of El's bed with a faint squeak of protest coming from rusty springs beneath them. It's familiar in so many ways, and El smiles despite the sickly sweet bile that seems to be stuck in her throat.

"Spare me the details- I've seen you hungover too many times to count, I know what's up. And don't worry, loverboy texted me and Lucas about it, all panicked and shit."

El can't help the way she laughs, but she immediately regrets it as her vision goes starry and her skull practically screams at her, causing her to hunch over herself in pain.

_Goddamn Max and her deadpan humor._

"Oh- shit sorry, forgot that you hate laughing when you're hungover." El feels the hand on her back rubbing gently at her spine and smiles inwardly at the small display of affection. But, El just knows there's a punchline, and lo and behold, Miss Mayfield chimes in yet again, "But hey, look on the bright side, it's been a while since you've gotten blackout drunk, maybe next time you'll hold off for longer."

El glares at Max out of the corner of her eye, silently telling her to 'shut the fuck up'. She takes in a deep breath, then speaks lowly beneath her breath, "Fat chance."

Max lets out another breathy laugh and pulls her hand back to herself with a roll of her eyes. 

"So, tell me, is this more of a 'get me mint chocolate ice cream and leave me the fuck alone' hungover, or is it a 'boot up Netflix and watch some weirdly romantic Disney movie with me' hungover?"

El sits up and smiles at Max, heart warm with a sort of kinship that only Max could instill in her. She just knows El so well, it's ridiculous. 

El just spreads her arms and makes grabby hands at the redhead in front of her, getting a light giggle in return as Max bends over and grabs her laptop from her bag, a small smile on her face. "Disney it is." 

\---

Sometimes, when El's asleep, she'll stumble upon things that she never really knew bothered her while she was conscious. 

For example, one time in Eighth grade, El had a dream about Stacey making fun of her because she had braces. El didn't have braces, nor did she need them, but it had never occurred to her while she was awake that she cared what Stacey thought of her, braces or not. Not until she had that dream, that is. 

It's not something that happens all the time- just on occasion- but these types of dreams are especially lucid when she's sick, or hungover, or whatever kind of fucked up. 

They aren't all bad, mostly just unsettling.

Sometimes they're just like that one in Eighth grade, completely irrelevant to her life other than it's message. Meaningless circumstances that could never happen, but still have meaning. 

But sometimes, they're memories. Memories of times where she had to face her deep-seated insecurities head-on. 

Those are the ones that terrify her. 

Today, curled up in her blankets as she drifts off to the sound of Max's steady breathing and the score of studio ghibli's Spirited away, she just knows that tonight is going to be one of those nights. 

So it's no surprise when she finds herself back in May of 2007, dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, starting up at the ceiling as she giggles at Jennifer's mindless gushing over how Will Byers looks so good in plaid. 

The memory is almost as real as it was when she was living it- the feel of the plush carpet in Stacey's room, the faint smell of nail polish and perfume, the mechanical whirr of the cheap fan stuck in her window as they desperately tried to cool the room down in the pre-summer heat of Hawkins, Indiana. So when Max scoffs from her spot in the corner of the room, it feels as if it was just as unexpected as it was the first time. 

Max had her hair pulled back that day, thick, red curls swept up tightly in a high pony, showing off the freckles that travel from her cheeks to her ears and then back down her neck. She's wearing her usual get-up, some kind of dark-colored tank-top with a pair of low-cut jeans that just scream the early 2000's, her signature dark green flannel wrapped around her waist. She's slumped in a pink bean bag chair as she paints her nails an almost blinding shade of red, not even looking up as she addresses Jenny. 

"Please, I don't think Will could care less about what you think of him. He's gay." Max pauses before squinting a little and moving onto her pinky, brush poised perfectly between her fingers. "I mean have you seen the way he looks at that guy Peter Hawthorne? It's gotta be the most precious thing I've ever seen." 

Stacey laughs from inside her walk-in closet, and El can just see from where she's laying that she's holding the few dresses that she's picked out in preparation for her date. A date with none other than Troye Harrington, star of Hawkins Jr. High football team. Some are tight-fitting and others have subtle ruffles and ribbons, but each one makes El's heart give a little squeeze. She knows Hop would never take her out dress shopping, it's just 'too girly', but oh, how she can dream. 

Stacey looks over to Jenny with a smirk on her face, one that's full of teasing, and El can't help but feel a little nervous at what she's going to say. She knows that Stacey doesn't mean much by it, but sometimes she can take things a little too far, and that's always a bit nerve-racking, because El hates fighting with her friends. 

So El nearly sighs in relief when they get a pretty docile response. 

"Sorry, Jen, I've gotta agree with Max on this one, he clearly just doesn't swing that way."

Jenny huffs, strands of blonde hair falling into her face as she slumps slightly. "I know… he's just so adorable, I wanna hug him so bad it's gonna kill me!" She throws her hands up in exasperation as her purple tube top stretches across her torso with the effort, falling back on the floor next to El, hair falling in a puddle around her.

"Well, what about you El?" 

El turns her head to look at Jenny in confusion, brows knitted together and voice questioning. "What do I think about what?" 

Jenny scoffs a bit before sitting up and crawling around El so she can pull her up by her hands. El reluctantly sits up and laces her fingers with Jenny's, upon the blondes' insistence. El really can't help but give in to her antics. Today she's wearing a bright purple top with bell-bottom jeans that are just slightly out of date- _they had to have once belonged to her mom_ \- and butterfly hair clips that El just knows she stole from her little sister. It's bubbly and fun in a way only Jennifer can be, and it automatically brings a smile to her face.

Jenny rolls her eyes before laughing in disbelief. "Do you think Will is cute?" 

El sits there for a few seconds, considering, but before El can even open her mouth, Max lets out a humorless chuckle. 

"Wait- wait-" Max caps the nail polish bottle and flexes her fingers as she looks at Jennifer with what El can only describe as a devilish grin. "You think that El, beanpole-nerd loving El, would like that little scrawny kid?" 

At that, a loud crash is heard from the closet and all the girls completely forget what's happening to see Stacey come rushing into view. "Wait- Mayfield- are you implying what I think you are?" 

Max looks up with a look of pure indifference as she addresses Stacey, "Depends on what you think I'm implying. If it has anything to do with El's sexual preferences, then yes I'd assume you're on the right track." 

"MAX!" Jenny jumps slightly from her outburst, but El hardly notices her hands slipping away. She can feel the bright red blush on her cheeks, it's so hot that she has to hold back the instinct to shove Jenny even further away in fear of her getting third-degree-burns. 

Stacey practically falls into place on the floor with them, dresses completely forgotten as she tries to get her hands on this new juicy tidbit of gossip. 

"Holy shit- ok, now you've gotta tell us who it is, because I don't think I've ever seen you this flustered over a guy… not even over that 80's magazine cover of Robert Macchio you keep in your bedside table."

El buries her head in her hands in shame. "God, how do you even know about that?" 

"Stop dodging the question!" Jenny pulls El's hands down so she can catch her eyes, trying to tell her with her ice-blue eyes that while she is also desperately curious, she can trust her. "Who's the lucky guy?" 

El sighs, finally giving in to the girly stereotype of gushing over a guy. Yet another new habit she just needs to learn to live with. "Mike Wheeler." 

The following silence is suffocating, making each breath El takes in that much heavier and each second longer than an eternity. 

Max is sitting in the background, a flat look on her face, but El knows that she's trying to give El the confidence to wait, the patience to see if this has all gone to shit. But even with Max there to keep her grounded, it's scary.

It's scary because she's just become friends with these girls- and she might've just blown it. 

Then, as if the two were on some sort of timer, they both jump into action, and even though the reactions are simultaneous, they are completely different.

Jenny immediately breaks into a huge grin, eyes alight, but still hesitant. Her smile is genuine, but it's not free of worry as she squeaks out a reply. "That's great! I'm so happy for you Ellie!" She's bouncing in place, and if it weren't for Stacey, she would've joined her in her giddiness. 

Because Stacey looks absolutely terrified. 

"Oh, God El are you sure?" The words are out of her mouth immediately after Jenny's, and of course, with them comes an avalanche of anxiety. 

"What do you mean?" El can feel the oh-so-familiar feeling of fear pooling in her belly as she speaks, but she's trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

"I mean, you've gotta be sure with guys like him. Because if you do go out, and then it suddenly ends, you'll be so low on the social ladder no one will even wanna be seen talking to you." Stacey's eyes are glued to El in the most pitying expression, and if El weren't so scared, she would be a little pissed off about that. 

But Stacey always has to push it that extra bit farther, has to take her one step closer to the edge. Give her that one extra push in convincing her to go along with what she says. 

"Even me." 

El swallows roughly, trying to keep her legs from running off. She should be used to Stacey's usual shit by now, she just can't let it get to her. 

She nods slowly and watches as Stacey stands back up, her eyes focused as she heads back into her closet to pick up the dresses she dropped earlier. 

That's when El turns to Jenny to see she's still grinning ear-to-ear, that same hesitantly bright look in her eyes. "So… you and Mike have any kind of history?" 

El gives in, pulling a hand up to cover her mouth, trying to smother the ridiculously girly giggle that's bubbling inside of her. "Yeah. He was my first friend when I moved here in seventh grade, so we became super close. He's just really sweet, and cute, and funny, and I love spending time with him, so…" El trails off, realizing she's dangerously close to admitting everything she feels for him. 

Jenny smiles brightly, opening her mouth to respond but she's cut-off.

"Wait- you've only been living here for two years?" 

Max looks up from one of Stacey's teen magazines- which she seems to have just cracked open- to look on curiously at El, as if she was under the impression that El had been here much, much longer. 

"Well, yeah. Hop and I moved from New York right after he adopted me." 

Max's eyebrows shoot up even higher on her forehead. "You're adopted? And from New York? Who did you live with before Hopper?" 

_Cold cellar doors snapping shut behind her._

_Long, talon-like fingers wrapped around her shoulders._

_Disappointed grimaces and backhanded insults._

"Just some cranky old guy." 

Jenny smiles and nods, quickly accepting the answer, no questions asked. 

But Max is staring at her, a constant question burning in her gaze as she watches everything El does. Every hand gesture and misplaced giggle, every smile and every groan of embarrassment. 

El hasn't known Max for long, but this isn't normal. She knows that something is wrong. 

So when El and Max head home later that evening, it doesn't come as that big of a surprise when Max breaks their usual comfortable silence. 

"Who did you really used to live with?"

El stops walking, backpack hanging off of her shoulder in a casual sort of manor. Max keeps rolling down the sidewalk on her skateboard, and only stops to look back after about ten seconds of silence. 

She turns around, and even though she is several feet away from her, El can see the piercing blue of her eyes. "El?"

"What?" She can hear how dumb she sounds. Like she's completely missed Max asking about her fucked up past and is honestly confused by her concern. 

"El, I know you hate it when I ask questions like this but this is serious." She kicks her skateboard up into her hands, tucking it under her right arm as she steps towards her. "I saw how scared you got when Jenny asked. I just want you to know you can talk about it ok?" 

El gulps and looks away, anything to distract her from that deep blue gaze, anything to keep the truth buried deep, deep inside. 

_Anything_ to keep herself from reliving it all over again. 

But this is _Max_. How could she possibly lie to her? How could she look into those eyes and say that nothing's wrong? That it didn't happen? 

_That she didn't grow up in a nightmare._

God, no. She can't even help it. It's all coming back so fast. _Slamming doors. Angry accusations. Tears that sting open wounds-_

"El, hey, hey, I'm here."

She hadn't even noticed that she started crying, she hadn't even heard Max rush to her side, she didn't even feel the arms coming to wrap around her shaking shoulders. 

She hadn't felt that way in so long, that kind of painful numbness that she knows all too well. That feeling of knowing that you've gone through shit that no one should ever have to deal with, yet for some god awful reason, it just seems so normal. The feeling of crying, but realizing it’s completely _pointless_. 

But for some reason, you're still crying. 

So they walk back to El's house like that, wrapped up together as Max comforts her, sobs echoing between them until they finally make it. And when they get to El's room, she explains everything, even the things that Hop doesn't know. 

The entire time Max is holding her hand, and even though it still feels numb, it's not as bad as it used to be. 

\---

Max hates leaving El like this. 

Hungover and helpless.

She knows she has to get up. She knows she has homework. She knows she promised to meet Lucas for Lunch.

But leaving El like this truly hurts her. El is like her only family. They're closer than sisters- no, scratch that- closer than _soulmates_. When El hurts, she hurts. 

So Max regretfully removes her arms from around El's sleeping form, careful not to wake her as the ending credits of Spirited away play the light melody that seems to soothe her worries. 

Because at the end of the day, El's been through worse. She's been through hell, heaven, and purgatory, and lived to tell the tale. She can make it through a few hours by herself. 

As the door clicks shut behind her, Max smiles and realizes something. 

She and El are always going to be together. Sure, they might stop being fuck buddies or friends with benefits or whatever you wanna call it, but they're always going to understand exactly what they both need. 

So on her way over to the cafe she and Lucas are meeting at, she calls the one person she knows El wants to see the most right now. The person Max knows isn't busy right now.

The boy with the raven hair and stars on his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooohhhh?
> 
> Max being a supportive best friend? check.  
> Max being a sassy redhead? check.  
> Max still not caring about anyone's feelings except her and El's?
> 
> ...check...
> 
> Fun fact: my tv’s Netflix is stuck on the janky looking 2013 version, but it still updates with new series. IMO, she’s cosplaying as her former self.


	6. The Day We Met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im in love with this story now. it's official.
> 
> enjoy!

How Max even got his number, Mike doesn't know. 

All he knows is that he's about to walk into El Hopper's apartment. 

And they're going to be completely alone. 

_ No, no. Don't fucking think like that, that's how guys like Troye think- I'm not Troye.  _

All he knows is that he's walking into the girl of his dreams' apartment. 

And everyone else is gone.

_ Well, no matter how I phrase it, I'm fucked.  _

Mike was currently standing in front of door number 353, his black converse scuffing nervously against the carpet. He was just as tall and awkward as always, but today he was wearing a dark green sweater with a white polo underneath, along with a pair of tight-fitting black jeans. An outfit that on a normal person would look fine, but on Mike, makes him look like some kind of formal giraffe. 

He really couldn't remember how he got here. He only remembered getting a text from Max telling him the door was unlocked, and then he was here. 

After all, if El "needed some company"- and why did she have to phrase it like _ that? _ Seriously, she's just hungover, not getting an escort or something… not that he'd  _ mind  _ doing that for her. God he needs to stop thinking of her like that- he was always going to be happy to help. 

_ Ok, stop psyching yourself out, you've got this. Just grab the doorknob and twist… _

Mike reaches out a shaky hand, fingers inches away from the cool, golden, metal of the doorknob, eyes squeezing shut. He can do this, he can do this, he can-

The door swings open.

"Mike?"

_ Of course. Of-fucking-course.  _

"Hey, El." 

* * *

"So Max texted you?" 

El watches as Mike nods, raven hair falling into his eyes as his head bobs. 

_ Cute.  _

"Yeah, said you needed some company while you got over your hangover." 

El hummed in acceptance, because that's just so Max. Leaving her best friend to fend off her hangover and then sending said friend’s childhood crush over with another grocery bag full of Eggos. Yep, sounds like a Mayfield sort of plan. 

"I do  _ not _ need the company. She's just being overdramatic." El sighed as she pulled the bucket Max and her used for ice away from the dispenser. "You can go if you need to study for midterms or whatever." 

_ Wait- no don't ask him to leave- invite him inside! Make him stay!  _

"No, I don't really. I've already studied for most of them so at this point I'd just be freaking myself out." 

El tried to fight off the twinge of a smile that tried to crawl up her face, distracting herself with the fact that her brain was currently exploding inside her skull. 

The hallway was empty. A rare occurrence for this time on a Sunday. Normally people would be heading out for lunch, or meeting up for study sessions, or getting high, or whatever kids in college do in their downtime. Like she'd know. She's only a freshman. No fun for the freshies. 

_ I wish that was true last night. _

El grimaced as a shot of pain stabbed in her head, causing her to nearly drop the bucket she was holding to bring a hand up to massage away the pain. She somehow managed to hand it off to Mike in time though. 

"Jeez, that bad?" 

El let out a strained chuckle and looked at Mike from the corner of her eye- well, really she had to fully lift her head to look at him, the goddamn giraffe- he was looking at her with a pained expression of understanding, and she really couldn't hold it back when she blurted out.

"Oh? You speaking from experience? How… __ unexpected."

His eyes shot wide open and his cheeks turned bright red in embarrassment. 

_ You know a last week when you were thinking of the downsides of being popular in high school? _ El's mind oh so helpfully called out to her.  _ Yeah, the instinctual bitchiness deserves a spot on that list. _

"Shit- sorry. I didn't mean that. Old habits die hard I guess." El reached for the ice bucket in Mike's hands and he handed it over easily, long fingers guiding the cool metal into her palms-

_ Jeez, no need to get all waxing poetic about the pretty boy's hands, you weirdo.  _

_ Wait- pretty?  _

_ Oh God, no stop- stop thinking like that. _

_ He's just another normal guy that you don't have a super hardcore crush on, you can talk to him like a normal human being.  _

_ Yeah, he's a human. You can talk to him, like a human would. _

Mike laughed, breaking her out of her mental haze as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "No, no, I get where you're coming from. I mean, I've got one of those faces." 

El scrunched her nose up in confusion, trying to ignore the slight sting it brought. "One of those faces?" 

_ Like, handsome? Yeah, you are.  _

_ Shut. Up.  _

"Yeah, those faces that just seems to say 'I've never done a single bad thing in my life'. You know, those?" He cleared his throat awkwardly and El had to hold back a giggle at how nervous he was about this. 

_ Hm, I don't know… for some reason, I could see you doing some very bad things. _

_ God fucking dammit- we just went over this.  _

Subconsciously, her teeth come out from behind her mouth to nibble on her lower lip, holding back something she will undoubtedly regret saying.

Mike takes notice, if the way his eyes dip to her mouth is any indication. But she ignores it because she can't just jump right back into a relationship. 

Not after Troye. 

_ God, even his name makes me nauseous.  _

_ Or is that the hangover? _

They stay like that for a few minutes, both lost in their thoughts. 

What El wouldn't give to know what he was thinking. 

_ (And what Mike wouldn't do to keep his less than innocent thoughts to himself...) _

Then, as if nothing happened, they both turn to walk back to room 353. 

"Are you sure you can stay? I don't want to like, pull you away from other plans." 

Mike shrugged and laughed, "Unless you mean other plans as in video games, I've got a clear schedule." 

She laughed gratefully. "Good, I've been wanting to watch Neverending Story, but I just can't be alone when Artax dies, and Max refuses to watch it with me, so… when life gives you lemons?" 

Mike laughs as they come to stand in front of door 353. "How could she hate Neverending Story? It's a classic!" 

"I know right!" El looks at the door. She has to do something. What is it? Goddamn hangover, can't fucking think- 

"Here gimme the key, I'll unlock it." 

Oh, yeah. There's a lock on the door.

_ If you forget to lock the door one more time, Eleven- _

She swallows the last thought and passes over the key, balancing the bucket in one arm as she reaches into her sweatpants pocket, shoving her thin t-shirt out of the way to pull out the gold-rusted key.

It's funny, she was never comfortable enough to wear these types of clothes around Troye. 

* * *

This was a dumb idea. He shouldn't have come when Max texted, El is fully capable of herself, she doesn't need him here.

He should've left when she started the movie. The way her eyes lit up as she pulled out her old VHS collection.

He should've left when she sat a little too close. The way her arm brushed softly against his, leaving barely-there goosebumps in its wake. 

He should've left when she started crying one-fourth of the way through. The way his heart sank along with hers as warm tears ran down her warm skin.

He should've left when she started to close her eyes. Her eyelashes dancing across her cheekbones. 

He should leave now, as she's falling asleep. Her head falling into place perfectly in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, like puzzle pieces.

They're linked. Across time, across space. He knows that they're just going to keep meeting up, he's not stupid. They're intertwined. 

That doesn't mean that El doesn't deserve better, that Mike wants her to have better. 

He should leave. 

He doesn't.

* * *

"How do you feel?" 

"Ow." 

"Oh, really. Never would've guessed." 

The summer before seventh grade is the hottest one Mike can remember. 

It's also the most painful. 

"You said he cornered you?" 

"No, Will, for the thousandth time, we just ran into each other." Mike sighs and rubs his eye, immediately regretting it as he feels the bruise deepen around the heel of his palm.

Will sighs before digging his phone out to send Lucas and Dustin yet another text, angrily clicking away at the buttons before flipping it shut and shoving it back into the pocket of his basketball shorts. "Troye doesn't just run into people ok? This was a planned attack! He had to have strategized this entire thing, planned it so he could fuck you up one more time before he left for camp, so your excuse is bullshit and you know it!"

Will isn't normally this angry about insignificant shit like this, maybe the summer heat combined with the raging hormones is just a bad combination. The real reason isn't really up for discussion, as Mike has gathered over the past few weeks. 

Will has been… weird lately. Maybe Mike’s just noticing it now, maybe he’s always been this way, or maybe something is wrong. 

The way Mike sees it, there are three possible reasons as to this new… development. 

Possible reason one is that he's stressed about the switch over to middle school. Most kids are though, but nobody is this bad. This is Will though, and Will has never been this flustered over something this small.

Possible reason two is that his family is back in debt again. It happens every few years, every time one of Joyce’s shitty boyfriends moves out. Mike hates saying things like this, but Will’s mom’s taste in men is dreadful. Except Mike was just at Wills house the other day and everything seemed fine. There were no overdue bills out on the coffee table, the lights were still on, and Joyce seemed happier than ever. So either the Byers have gotten good at hiding their financial status, or nothing is wrong.

And then there's the third possibility, the most terrifying one. 

_ Will likes someone. _

In all the time Mike has known Will, he's never once had a crush on a girl. In their case, this should be a good thing, if you don't fall for a girl you won't get let down. Mike has learned that the hard way. 

But Will isn't like Lucas, Dustin, or Mike. 

Mike only sees it occasionally, but whenever the three of them talk about girls, he just kind of… fades out of the conversation. 

Maybe he's sad that no girls have shown interest in him. Or maybe he's sad that he hasn't taken interest in any girls. 

Yeah, that's gotta be it, he's finally found a girl and he's just adjusting. Yeah. 

"God, where the fuck are they!? It's been thirty minutes since I last texted- they should be here by now!" Will is pacing now, his red Nikes shuffling against the grass as he pouts. 

Mike hates seeing Will like this. He's meant to be the rational one, not Mike. 

Mike let out a shallow breath. "Will really, I'm fine, I can walk myself ho-" 

"No! Mike, you know the party rules! When a party member is in need-" 

"I know, I know." 

Mike sits there for what feels like an eternity, slumped against that brick wall as he watches Will pace, stopping every few minutes to pull out his Nokia and then angrily shoving it back into his pocket. It takes probably fifteen minutes until they hear footsteps approaching, and the second Will hears them he races around the corner, phone clenched in his hand.

“Where the fuck have you-” 

He stops abruptly.

Mike can’t see what's going on from around the corner, but he can hear hushed whispers as Will comes back with Dustin and Lucas. The second the light hits Dustin's face, Mike can see the deep gashes in his cheeks, the pink splotches under his eyes from tears.

“Troye caught us on the way here.” Lucas grunts as he hobbles over with one arm under Dustin's, helping him sit down next to Mike. “I'm so glad that fucker is going to boot camp.” 

Will is silent as he slides down to sit next to Mike. he isn't crying or anything, he's just there, silently listening to Lucas's explanation. He's been weird around Troye recently, angrier. 

They all sit there until it gets dark, chatting about everything and everything. Lucas’s girlfriend, Dustin's robotics project, Mike's new D&D campaign, Will’s newest painting. Town gossip flashes by in conversation, small remarks about how the chief was called back to New York for an old case that was never closed, Mrs. Carsiles missing dog, Steve Harringtons' newest romantic tryst- which Mike desperately wants to forget involves his sister.

It seems like any other day, any old conversation, but Mike knows this is a turning point. Something big is about to happen, he just knows it.

Will comes out to him two weeks later, sitting on the steps of the Wheeler household as his lemon popsicle melts in his hands, along with his fears. Mike smiles and hugs him, asking him why he didn't say anything sooner, what made him realize. Will is quiet after that. 

Three days later Dustin's Mom receives a letter saying her husband died in combat, leaving her alone in her suburban daydream. Dustin had knocked on Mike's door and stayed for three days, helping with his campaigns and silently sitting through movie marathons with him and Lucas. 

Lucas's first girlfriend broke up with him two days before school started. She said she only wanted a summer fling- apparently, she was just 'too popular' for anything longterm- it was a stupid reason from a stupid girl, but Lucas was still devastated. Mike biked with him to the quarry and they threw rocks at the water below, wondering why girls didn't make any sense.

The day school started felt different, and deep down, Mike didn't want it to be what he knew it was- the shift that everyone in the party felt as summer drew to a close. 

But no matter how many times he splashed water on his face and combed his hair, the feeling didn't go away. 

His first three classes weren't anything special. He was happy he shared a class with the rest of the party first period, and he had to admit, their science teacher- he thinks his name was Mr. Clarke?- seemed like a pretty cool guy. Second period was pre-algebra. The teacher had an annoying voice, but he already knew most of the material anyway, so he just zoned out. Will was in his third period Social Studies class, and with how boring their teacher was, Mike was relieved to have a friend with him. 

It wasn't until the bell signaling the end of lunch came that he felt it. 

He didn't know why, but suddenly, he felt like he was walking on air. It was the kind of feeling you got when you reached the top of a hill on a roller coaster, or when you went to bed on Christmas Eve, waiting for the hours to pass. He was waiting, but not nervously, he was excited. 

It's weird. When he woke up, he knew this was coming and he dreaded it, but now that it was here- this so-called "change"- he was excited. 

He was ready for it, good or bad, he would take it. 

Mike had no trouble finding his English classroom, mainly because his mother had forced Nancy to show him around after her eighth-grade graduation last year, but also because he felt drawn to the room, as if he had to be there for something, something big. 

The second he turned the corner into the room, he knew why. 

Well, he saw the reason why. 

And she was fucking gorgeous.

She was doodling, flowers probably, on the cover of a light pink notebook, short, wavy strands of honey brown hair falling from behind her ears. She was wearing a bright yellow cardigan that looked to be about two sizes too big, an mp3 shoved into one of the pockets. Earbuds were threaded up under a large white button-up, something Mike found to be eerily similar to the uniform of the chief of police. Her jeans were torn and low cut, cuffed at the ankles to show off a pair of white converse that were covered in little red heart doodles. 

She was unlike any girl Mike had ever seen. 

She must have felt him staring, because not even a moment later she looked up at him, eyes trailing up his lanky legs to his eyes. 

Have you ever felt the world stop moving? It seems impossible, you can't feel it moving in the first place so why would you feel it stop if it did? But Mike felt it. He felt everything else stop and fade away into something so small and insignificant. 

Everything but her. 

The second that his eyes met hers, he knew he was a goner. The faint yellow in her almond eyes shined in the cheap lighting, eyes that have seen terrible, terrible things, eyelashes that have been wet with far too many tears. He can see it, even if she hasn't said a word. 

He's in his seat before he knows it, pulling out his brand new composition book and daring another look at the girl next to him. 

She's already looking at him when he looks at her, and the way her cheeks bloom into a light pink makes his IQ drop by at least ten points. Then she smiles, and Mike drops another thirty. 

She quickly plucks one of her earbuds from her ears, a low tempo alternative song barely reaching his ears. "Uh- Hi- I'm Jane. Uh, Jane Hopper. I just moved here." She sticks her hand out, a nervous smile on her face.

Mike just stares at her for a few seconds, trying to get over how soft her voice is as he formulates some kind of response. 

"Oh- uh, I'm Mike. I've lived here my whole life, so uh- ha…" he laughs lowly, his eyes dropping to his scuffed sneakers as he grabs her hand and shakes it. He retracts it as quickly as possible, ignoring the volts of electricity that go straight to his heart.

God, what a wastoid. 

But she laughs. She laughs and it's the best thing Mike has ever heard in his entire life. Soft and tinkling as her hand comes up to smother it. He can smell the faint smell of strawberries from a foot away, her short hair bouncing with humor as she shakes her head. 

"Well, since you seem to know your way around here, why don't you show me around after school?" Her laughter finally trails off as she lets out a soft huff of air. "My dad can't pick me up until four-thirty so I was just planning on sitting by the field, but hanging out with you seems much more interesting than watching football tryouts." 

When Mike woke up, he was dreading the change to come, but now… 

He knows that what's in store is so much worse than what he feared. 

Because she's perfect in almost every way, and he can already feel himself falling. 

* * *

"Mike, Mike. Hey, it's late, wake up." 

His eyes popped open and were instantly met by an unfamiliar silhouette. Long strands of hair ending in near-perfect curls and thin arms covered by a chunky coat. 

As he tried to remember where he was as he sat up, finding his arm trapped behind something, or rather someone.

El's arms were wrapped around his waist, hands clutching the fabric of his T-shirt as her head rested over his stomach. His back was curved at an unnatural angle against the wall and her bed, not exactly a comfortable position. He has no idea how he even slept. 

He tells himself it's because he's stressed about midterms, even though in the recesses of his mind he's almost certain it has to do with her. 

There was a shot of pain that went through his neck as he sat up. He should've expected it. When he was leaning against the wall it was the only thing holding his weight. 

Mike blindly reached for his jeans pocket, pulling out his blackberry and checking the time. 10 pm. Shit.

There was a faint click and the room was cast in a faint yellow light, lit up by the lamp in the dorm. The silhouette was Max, but he had already assumed that, who else would be in here at 10 pm on a Sunday night? 

"When did she pass out?" 

"A little after five I think." Mike carefully lifted El's arms away from his hip, trying to ignore the feeling of loss as he stood up and went to gather his things. "How was your hot date?" 

Max blushed and shook her head. "Don't call it that, you fucking jerk. It was just two high school buddies having lunch and then going for a few drinks." 

Mike laughed. "Yeah, and did Lucas agree to that or…" 

Max scoffed and crossed her arms. "Just hurry and get your shit together so she doesn't wake up and ask you to stay." 

Mike stops where he is, turning back to the redhead with curiosity, eyebrows creased into a thin line. "Why would she want me to stay?" 

Max rolls her eyes and moves to rearrange El into more of a comfortable position so she isn't sleeping slumped against the wall. "You really are an idiot sometimes Michael Wheeler." 

He shrugs on his jacket before walking to the door, ready to open it, when he hears his name being called out once more. 

"Yeah, Max?" 

She gulps but keeps her eyes trained on El's sleeping form. "I know I don't show it much, but I do care for El you know?" A single tear leaves her eyes, running down her face and falling onto the mattress below. Crying isn't something that Mike ever thought Max could do. "I just want the best for her, and for some reason that happens to be you." She turns her head to look at him, wiping a few stray tears with her sleeve. "Just… don't fuck it up."

Mike lets out a shallow breath and looks to the girl behind her, the source of his insecurity in himself, the reason why he's still a virgin at eighteen, the reason he lied awake at night throughout high school, wondering if that note even reached her heart, or if it was just words on a page. 

Absentmindedly, he fumbles with his wallet in his coat pocket, running his thumb along the edge of a paper tucked between worn leather. A paper that's been read and cried over far too many times to count. He hasn't read it since graduation, too afraid of the memories it would bring. But maybe he can look at it again later, find something he forgot. 

He smiles faintly at Max, he knows it doesn't meet his eyes, but he can't make it sincere. Not yet. Not for a while. "I've been watching over her for much longer than you have Max, if you think I haven't already fucked it up, you're sorely mistaken." 

Max sighs and tosses him a key from her coat pocket. He fumbles to catch it and sighs when the keyring catches on his index finger. It looks brand new, as if it was just made. 

"For the next time, or whenever you feel like she needs help. God knows why you're so good at taking care of her." She stands up, pulling a blanket up over El's sleeping form. "Lock the door on the way out." 

He smiles, this time the feeling ebbs slightly into his features, the corners of his eyes wetting with emotion. "Good night, Max." 

"Good night Mike." 

The door clicks shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering why max is weepy, she's tipsy, leave her alone lmao. i nodded to the note again. you guys probably hate me for keeping all this plot stuff all hush-hush, but I don't want you guys to get the wrong ideas about whats going on. in the words of my idiot brain, "just lemme finish telling you what happened before i tell you what it means."
> 
> comments are always appreciated! i love writing replies so please leave me feedback!! see you sometime soon ;)


	7. The Yellow Cardigan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, i really dont like this chapter. 
> 
> not the story, no I love the story it tells, it just feels like I could've written it... i don't know, differently? better? 
> 
> eh. it is what it is. 
> 
> sorry about my complaints about Indiana weather, but it really should be known that tv shows that are set in Indiana are full of shit because winter in the midwest is fucking awful.
> 
> anyways, enjoy.

Winter break seemed to come in an instant. One second Max was filling in a scantron sheet about _Pride and Prejudice_ and the next she's sprawled out in the Hopper's guest bedroom. 

It's not exactly a good thing, I mean, it's certainly not pretty in Hawkins during winter. 

From the disgusting grey slush on the roads, to the ridiculously huge potholes that apparently didn't need fixing, nothing was quite as hellish as the slightly muddy, slightly snowy landscape of Hawkins, Indiana. 

One of the only good things about Hawkins this time of year was the Hopper family. 

Ever since Max had become friends with El, Hopper’s been the father figure she never had. He saw both of them off to prom, took them to get ice cream after football games, he even helped pitch in to get Max her car when she was fifteen. So when college let out for fall break, instead of going home, Max spent the week at the Hopper residence. 

Of course she had spent holidays with them before, it was just different this time. This time, she wasn't running away from anything. It wasn't like it was a problem anyways, Hopper didn't have any family and El was adopted, so over the holidays, it was always just the two of them. 

But this Christmas El seemed… on edge. Like she was waiting for something.

So when Max found herself sprawled out on Els queen-sized mattress a few days before Christmas, she was almost prepared for the impending doom.

_ Almost. _

"Max? Have you seen my yellow cardigan?" 

Max looked up at her best friend storming into the room, frantically pushing through the guest room closet, as if she was looking for some kind of ancient relic.

"Come on in why don't you," Max said flatly, not looking up from the 1985 edition of  _ Tiger Beat _ that El kept hidden in the guest room.

"Max this is serious, dad's having his new girlfriend over and I-I-" Max looked up as El turned to the redhead, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Woah, hey." Max stood up and rushed over to the door, flinging the magazine off to the side as the door clicked shut. 

Max was at her side in an instant, arms coming to wrap around her shaking shoulders. "El, hey, it's ok, we'll find your sweater." 

El pushed back from her, tears still streaming down her red cheeks. "It's not just some fucking sweater Max, It's-" El lets out an exasperated sigh and puts her right hand in front of her head in the shape of a gun before moving to point it at Max. 

Max's eyes widened. "It's about that?" She whispered frantically.

El nodded as Max stood in front of her, keeping her distance. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure as Max hesitantly reached for her hands. 

Ever since El had told Max about her childhood, she had been her sole confidant. Well, besides Hop, but even he didn't know everything.

Sometimes El would get set off in the middle of conversations, or she would remember something that she wanted Max to know while they were with Stacey, or Jen, or whoever the fuck it was. But, being the bitchy gossipers they were, the girls were always trying to listen in for info. 

_ Ugh. Cheerleaders.  _

Because of this, they decided to develop a hand signal. Originally, Max had just seen a bad cop drama and wanted them to talk with their hands, and like, create a whole language for it or something dumb like that, but El was the one who had the idea of just one, all-encompassing secret hand signal. In certain situations, it meant different things. Like if they were in public it just meant to get out. Or right now, when it meant El was talking about her past, but it was too difficult to communicate what to say.

Maybe it was El's way of showing Max that she still trusted her even after all these years.

Or maybe she was just bad at communicating. 

_ Equally as likely. _

El let out one final breath, looking down at her hands as she picked at her fingers. "It belonged to my mom." 

Max's eyes went wide. "I thought you said you didn't have anything left of her?" 

El sighed, shaking her head. "No, I said I didn't have  _ much _ left of her. This was it. This cardigan, it-" El cut herself off, looking up and covering her mouth, trying to stop any more tears from coming. 

Max ran her hands up into her red hair as she thought of the last time she saw the ratty old yellow thing. El didn't pack it for college, so it wasn't up in Chicago… she didn't wear it much during high school… she didn't wear it to graduation, that was her brown cardigan… Troye and El's anniversary- 

"Shit."

"What? Did you remember where it is? Max where is it?" El gave up on trying to hide her panic, tears rolling down her cheeks as she heaved out breaths, gripping Max's forearms as if they were the only things keeping her tethered to earth.

Max tangled her fingers into her hair, pulling lightly as El's hands went down to her elbows. That couldn't be it… if she had left it there-

"Do you remember you and Troyes Anniversary? Just a little before graduation?" 

El's eyes widened, a look of sheer horror on her face. 

"Fuck."

* * *

Manhattan was hot in the summertime. Not like, California hot, but hot nonetheless.

Social services stopped by again a few days ago. 

Kali said it was bullshit that even the cops couldn't get them out of here. 

Eleven didn't see why they needed to get out.

Eleven flipped through her old copy of  _ Tiger Beat. _ Kali had seen a senile old woman carrying it around and had traded it for some of her Adderall. Eleven had cried and told her that if Papa found out Kali wasn't taking her meds she would be put in the closet. 

But Kali wasn't scared of the closet. 

She had been in there so many times, it must not have scared her anymore. 

Eleven remembers when Kali was scared of the closet, when she went by the name Eight. She always told Eleven that she knew her real name, that she remembered her real parents, that they could find hers too. She never got much farther than that before she was dragged off by the guards.

Papa always said she was lying, always sending her to the closet. She would stay in there for at least three days, sometimes more. But she kept saying it, that she had a real name. 

After weeks in the closet, she must have stopped being scared. So one day when the guards were on break, she told Eleven her name was Kali. Eleven believed her. 

Eleven hoped one day she would have a real name, a name other than Eleven. Like Elizabeth, or Jamie.

Today was the one day a year that she didn't have chores. Kali told her that it was her birthday, but when Eleven didn't know what that was, Kali had refused to tell her. 

She remembers that moment because that was the closest she got to seeing Kali cry. 

Today was also one of her favorite days. Because she got to see Mama. 

Papa told her that Mama was always busy. He never told the kids what she did, but it was a very important job, and nobody was meant to bother her. 

Eleven hoped that this time she wouldn't be drunk, or sedated. That's what Kali called it. Sedation. Papa always told her that she just had a little too much wine.

It was funny. She had never seen a bottle of wine anywhere around the house.

She was counting down the minutes until ten, when she would get to spend time with her for a whole hour. Papa said it was because she had been a good girl all year, and even though Eleven didn't feel very good, she was still happy she got to see her mother. 

At nine-thirty there was a loud knock on the door.

Eleven assumed Papa decided to get her early.

Eleven bolted upright, magazine still in hand, jumping over her siblings' mattresses. She liked to count how many she jumped over as she went. 12, 13, 14… 

Eleven opened the door, and there stood Kali, backpack slung over her shoulder. 

"Eleven, they're here."

Eleven looked up at her sister. "Who? Mama?" 

Kali shook her head. "No. Eleven listen, they're sending me away." 

The smaller girl looked up and froze. "W-what?" Eleven felt tears roll down her cheeks. 

"I know you don't want to see me go, but listen to me Eleven, you have to run. You have to go outside and run and get help. You have to or else everyone else here is going to get hurt." 

Eleven had never seen the outside. The windows in the house were covered and the doors were always locked. Papa said the outside was dangerous, but Kali told Eleven that the sky was beautiful, and that there were people out there, people like her who liked the color pink, and listened to Coldplay songs, and read teen magazines. 

Right now she had a choice. 

Believe Kali, or believe Papa. 

She chose Kali. 

The plan was that when the people were talking to Papa about Kali, Eleven had to run past them and out the door. Kali said that she had to be as quiet and sneaky as possible because if she was seen, she would get a much worse punishment than the closet. 

Kali told her to run east until she saw the police station. She was to walk inside and tell them she belonged to a Martin Brenner, and hand them an envelope. Kali told her the envelope was very important. That it had everything they needed to save everyone. She couldn't lose it, no matter what. 

Just as she was finishing explaining the plan, a voice boomed out across the house. 

"Eight! It's time!"

Kali visibly shook.

"Ok, Eleven listen to me." Eleven looked into Kali's eyes and wiped her tears, sniffling as she gave a nod for her sister to continue. "I know this is a lot, but I didn't think this would happen this quickly. You can't go looking for me. No matter what you do, do not look for me. Understand?" Eleven nodded once more, sniffling again.

The voice called again, this time, more insistent. Kali looked back, this time tears were in her eyes. 

"Now, I have to go, but please, take this bag with you." Kali slipped the backpack off of her shoulder and slipped it onto Eleven. "Don't open it until you are safe. It will answer your questions, the ones the policemen can't tell you. You don't have to tell them what it is, it is your choice to share what it says. Do you understand?" Eleven nods one last time before springing up and wrapping her arms around her sister.

"Thank you." Eleven doesn't know why she's thanking her, she barely knows what she's talking about, but she's thankful for some reason. 

Kali hugged her back and laughed wetly, speaking through her tears. "No, thank you."

And then she walked downstairs.

El will always remember the look on Kali's face as she slipped out the door. It was an odd look, one that Kali never wore, something that she only ever heard about from her magazines. 

They called it a smile. 

When Eleven stepped outside, she didn't have time to take it all in, she only had time to run. So she did. She ran east, the direction Kali told her to. She stopped at the Police sign. She went inside and walked up to the counter. She told them she belonged to Martin Brenner. She gave them the envelope. 

It took what felt like an eternity before the lady from the front desk came back. She was crying. And even though Eleven wasn't very good at recognizing feelings yet, she knew the tears were for her. 

She was sent to a home that night, a home that had two adults that talked to her sweetly and never threatened to lock her in a closet. A home that had people who told her to call them Paula and Jhon. A home that had open windows that overlooked the city, the outside. A home where she was asked if she was hungry and she never had to work for food. A home where she didn't have to share a bed, or a room, or her meals. A home where for the first time, she felt like she was taken care of. 

She wasn't safe.

She stayed in that home for three days, and every day a police officer- that's what they were called- would come by to ask her questions about her life with Papa. Every day she would come by, and every day Paula and Jhon would grow more distraught. Maybe it was the way she acted, or maybe it was the stories she would tell. Either way, she always fell asleep to the sound of crying and discussions of sending her to be with someone else. 

She was taken back to the station three days later, where she met a detective. He was a tall and burly man with a great big belly and a scruffy beard. The lady at the front desk told her his name was Detective Hopper. He told Eleven to call him Hop. 

He was nice to her. Nicer than the other detectives that asked her questions with no emotion. They didn't respond to her answers, just put a pen to paper and moved on. 

He even gave her a nickname. He told her it was because calling a kid a number was too weird, but deep down she felt like the name meant more.

He called her El. 

Things like that made Hop different.

He asked her questions, yes, but not all of them were about the home. Some were about her favorite food, her favorite color, if she wanted a new family, a new start. 

Questions she soon learned weren't typical of retired detectives.

Hop was considerate and kind, always asking her if she wanted water or tissues, or even a snack. He told her jokes and held her hand when she cried, he talked her down. He told her about things she didn't understand, like what police officers did and why they took her away from her home. He told her the truth. With him, she almost felt safe. 

She still wasn't safe.

When she came back to the home with Paula and Jhon, she told them about the detective. And for the first time in three days, they smiled. 

The next day they came with her to the station. They talked with Hop. They laughed and they cried and they thanked him, but she still wasn't sure what for. 

He asked her to live with him, as his daughter. She didn't know what that meant, to be a daughter. So he told her while he signed the adoption papers. 

After she got her bag from her foster home- Hop called it that- she left with Hop. He told her they were going to live in a place called Hawkins. He told her it was much smaller than the city, that at night you could see the sunset, something El thought Kali had made up. He also told her that he knew she could handle it, living in a small town. 

As she swept the cabin with him, she caught a glimpse of herself in a dusty mirror. Normally her reflection wasn't much to look at, but when she saw herself now, in an oversized pair of overalls and one of Hops old shirts, dopey smile and all, she never looked more like herself. 

A week after she got to Hawkins she sat up in her four-poster bed, sheets pulled up to her chin as she looked at her room. It was all her own. This cabin only belonged to her and Hop. The Hop that made her laugh and taught her about the world, and it made her feel happy- made her feel safe. 

Because she was safe.

El sat up, her eyes glued to a bag in the corner of the room. 

It was time. 

Inside the bag, there were four things. 

The first one she pulled out was a note. A note addressed to Jane Ives, a real name for a real girl. She knew that the letter was for her, it was in the bag for a reason.

Why didn't it say Eleven? 

For a while she just stared at the note, admiring Kali's smooth penmanship, and the light blue lines of the paper. 

This was it. This was the answer. So why was she so hesitant? She wanted to know. She needed to know.

So, she took a deep breath, and she unfolded the note.

_ Dear Jane,  _

_ If you are reading this, it means that I've been taken away. That you've escaped the house, that you saved everyone. It means you've found a home. Your home.  _

_ Your whole life you've been asking me for answers. Before now I didn't have any I could give you, because it wasn't safe for you there. But now, wherever you are, you are safe, and you can finally know.  _

_ Your name is Jane Ives- or was Jane Ives- I assume by now you have a new name and are quite pleased with it, as you are with most things in life. Your mother, Terry, loved you very much, but she never got to meet you. Your father, Andrew, died before you were born. They loved each other very much, and if it weren't for Martin Brenner, or Papa as you know him, they would've raised you to be a fine young lady.  _

_ But we both know that's not what happened.  _

_ The rest is in here. In this bag is what is left of your family. Your original family. Don't let it define you, Jane. You can rise above all of this. Create your destiny.  _

_ Love, Kali. _

Tears stained the page. 

Jane. Her real name. Her real name because she was a real girl. 

God, why is she being so selfish?

This was the last thing she would ever read from Kali, and all she could think about was her stupid name. 

She tucked the note back into the bag and pulled out the second item. It was a photo album, only filled halfway, stopping abruptly after a picture of an oddly shaped black and white blob. She wouldn't know what that was until several months later, when Mike showed her Holly's ultrasound pictures. The rest of the pages that had pictures were of two people. One of them, a woman with beautiful sandy blonde hair, and the other a man with light brown hair, untamed and unruly as it sat atop his head. They were always somewhere different, doing different things, going to different places. The album was titled "Ives."

There were pictures with other people too. People they knew probably, friends, like Hopper said. There were pictures at parties, at beaches, in cozy living rooms. They were happy memories, with pages left empty for even more. 

More memories they never got.

Tears kept falling as she set the album aside, pulling out the next item with shaking hands. 

It was a medal. The kind that the man in the album wore in some of the pictures. It didn't look shiny and new though, like in the pictures, it looked old and worn. The back was engraved. 

_ Cadet Ives. _

_ Dad. _

El gulped down her tears as she reached for the last item. 

It was a cardigan. Bright yellow with brown buttons. It had two pockets that fit almost her entire arm and two sleeves that had to be rolled up five times. 

The second she put it on, she couldn't help but smile. 

It felt like home.

* * *

"WHERE IS IT?"

The drive from the cabin to Troyes house was probably the quietest car ride Max had ever been in. It was as if El was so scared of what she would say, that she didn't want to breathe. 

The second the car was parked, however, it was as if all else was out the window. 

The door swings open moments after El's outburst, revealing a topless Troye Harrington. Max doesn't want to say anything about the fact that Troye was half-naked, but it isn't helping their situation.

"What the fuck do you want? We separated. That means not together."

"WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?! Troye I swear-"

"Ok, ok, just tell me what you need and I'll go get it." 

El guffaws, eyes wide and filled with rage. "What you don't want to let me in so I can see the slut you're hooking up with?" 

Max looked quickly between them before reaching for El's arm. "Hey, El maybe we should come back another-" 

"NO!" Max stumbles back slightly, but doesn't let go, grip still tight on El's forearm. "Max, dad is having his girlfriend over  _ tonight! _ This can't fucking wait!" El yanks her arm from Max's grip and all but throws Troye to the floor. "Excuse me." 

As El stomps her way up the stairs, Troye hops to his feet and runs in the opposite direction. The living room. 

Curious, Max quietly follows him, hands clenched in her coat pocket, ready to defend herself if necessary. 

It's not though, because the scene in front of her doesn't have an appropriate reaction. 

The Walsh's living room is large, with a huge white sofa and plush-lined chairs, but Max could give a shit less about how rich Troye was, what caught her attention, were the two figures that were arguing on the couch as Troye approached. 

"Mike? Will?" 

Troye stops mid-stride as both boys snap around to look at her, faces equally mortified. 

Mike's hair is disheveled, as if he had been running his hands through it, a seemingly common habit, as his hand comes up to disappear into the dark mess. Otherwise, he looks normal. Well, as normal as an enraged twig can look. 

The thing that makes her freeze is Will. 

Will is topless. Just like Troye. 

His hair is disheveled, but not from hands. 

His lips are bruised and parted in shock. 

He has a goddamn hickey on his collarbone. 

And even better, the basketball shorts he's wearing are about two sizes too big, as if they were a rushed addition to his lackluster modesty. 

And of course, just then El calls from the stairs. 

"Hey Max, I got it! We can go now!" 

Mike's eyes widen and his hand clenches in his hair. 

"Shit." 

Max nods as she keeps her eyes locked to Mikes. "Yeah, Shit." 

"Max? Come on we have to-" 

El stops behind the redhead, eyes peering through the large entryway to the living room, mouth opened in shock. 

She's wearing the yellow cardigan underneath her coat.

Mission success. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, you're shocked.
> 
> Max is an English major!? i know, I know, it's crazy!
> 
> anyways, I felt the part about "Mama" was a bit unclear, but no, the woman El visited yearly was not her mother. they probably weren't even related.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments! I love reading them!


	8. Peeking Through Windows and Hiding by Water fountains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, hear me out.
> 
> this chapter is short. but its late, and i have school, and i checked for grammar. mostly. it's readable. 
> 
> but i still don't like ittttt
> 
> its yucky. i don't know. 
> 
> i think it'll get better soon, but i just really would appreciate critiques.
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

"I still don't get why you're hanging out with her."

"Because, Dustin! It's El!" 

"You act like she didn't even ditch you for Troye, like she isn't a total bitch."

Mike stops a forkful of scrambled eggs inches from his mouth, looking between an annoyed Dustin Henderson and a distracted Lucas, who was currently typing away on his phone.

Winter break was Mike's favorite time of year. It wasn't just about Christmas though- although the money he always received certainly wasn't unwelcome- it was about his sisters. 

Back when Nancy was living in the house, Mike hated her. He hated how long she took to get ready in the mornings, he hated all of her boy drama, and he hated how she somehow always got him in trouble. 

She was the reason Mike's Curfew was 9 pm for all of high school. 

So yeah, she was the worst. 

Then she moved out, and like magic, she became like some kind of magically better sister. 

Mike likes to blame it on his parents for creating a suburban nightmare of a household, but deep down he knows that he and his sister just need to have their own space. 

His younger sister, Holly, however, never wanted to be apart from Mike. 

And Mike had to agree that being apart from her made life just a little less unpredictable.

She was turning 8 this year. It's crazy to think that she's going to be in second grade next fall. He always thought of her as a baby, so seeing her do multiplication is starting to fuck with him. 

Nancy won't be home for three days, though. She got a huge story and the Times didn't want her leaving New York until it was on her Bosses desk. 

Ah, the price of being a Wheeler, abused for your brains.

Mike dropped his fork to his plate, trying to keep a straight face. "That wasn't her, that was just… a lapse in judgment. And she isn't a bitch. You know who is a bitch though-" 

"There he goes again! He's deflecting Lucas, can't you see that?"

Lucas kept staring at his phone.

"Lucas?" A beat. "Lucas!" Dustin looked over at Mike, giving him a look that said 'is he serious?' Mike laughed, but Dustin just groaned and snatched the phone from Lucas's hands. "I'll take that! Now let's see…" 

"Dustin! Give it back!" Dustin didn't respond, he just turned towards the wall on his right and snickered.

"Ooh, a date? With Mayfield?" Dustin turned to look at Lucas over his shoulder, who was now trying to reach around Dustin to get his phone. "You're playing with fire here Mister Sinclair." 

"Dustin just give it back-" a swipe and a miss. "Dustin-" missed again. "Give it here!" 

Mike had missed this. Just hanging out with his buddies, no worries about school or family. Just the ordinary back and forth on girls and gossip. It felt just like the old days… only one thing was missing- 

The bell on the front door of the diner rang out louder than Mike expected, waking him from his thoughts as Will tumbled into the diner and practically fell into place next to Mike in their usual booth.

-and there he is. Will Byers. The Man of the hour, that should've been here an hour ago. 

"What was the hold-up, my dear William?" Dustin gave up on trying to stop Lucas from taking back his phone, now sitting with his hands on the table, twiddling his thumbs like he always did. "Got a new hookup in your hometown of suburbia?" 

Will flushed but rolled his eyes. "Haha, very funny. But no, Johnathan said he wanted to take pictures of me and Mom for his office." 

"Whatever you say my sweet, sweet, William." Dustin smiled and leaned forward, attempting to steal a strawberry from Mike's plate. Mike of course stabbed his hand with his fork and frowned. The curly-haired boy shrugged and went back to eating his plate of pancakes. "So, uh- how is Jhon-a-Tron?" 

Will didn't answer, he just stared off at the other side of the restaurant. There was a pause as Dustin tried to look and see what Will was looking at, but when he turned around, the curly-haired boy seemed just as confused as before. He was just about to open his mouth when- 

"Since when did Troye work here?" 

Mike swallowed and glanced over to his right to follow Will's eyes, and low and behold, there he was. Troye Walsh, in a busboy apron and everything. 

"Probably since forever." 

Mike looked over at Lucas, who seemed to be the only person at the table who wasn't shocked. He was still focused on his phone, but his facial expression as neutral as ever.

"What?" Dustin looked over to his left in slight confusion, looking just as intrigued as Mike felt.

"Troye. He's probably been working here since this place opened. Well- since he was old enough to work." Lucas kept his eyes on his phone as he typed out what seemed to be yet another message. 

Mike rolled his eyes and grabbed Lucas's phone. The darker-skinned boy yelped and tried to reach for it, but because of the distance between the two, he couldn't do much, leading him to give up pretty quickly. 

Mike cleared his throat and leaned an elbow on the table as he quickly pocketed Lucas's phone. "Why is he working here though?" 

Lucas's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, eyes quickly darting around the table. "Uh, because his dad owns the place." 

Dustin whipped around, completely forgetting about looking at Troye to address Lucas. "Since when?" 

Lucas shrugged. "I dunno. How did you guys not know this- the diner is called Tony's? Like, Tony, as in Tony Walsh."

Dustin blinked, hesitating for a second before seeming to come to the group's defense. "Tony is a pretty common name! That could be anyone!" 

Lucas once again gave Dustin a look of confusion. "No, it couldn't? There's only ever been one Tony in town. What other Tony are you talking about?" 

Dustin raised a finger and opened his mouth, but froze after a moment, seeming to realize that he couldn't defend himself. 

Mike rolled his eyes and looked back up in Troye's direction, but when his eyes came to rest where he used to be, he found that the space was empty, and Troye was now walking straight for their table. 

"Hey! Will! How are you?" He said in that deep voice that every 'manly man' ever had with a white-toothed smile that could be seen from the moon. 

Why did El even see in this guy? I mean for one, Mike hasn't seen him at all in the past few weeks, let alone with El, so he isn't spending time with her. He was also an asshole, to the point that Mike was convinced that Troye didn't even know his name wasn't 'frog face'. 

But Mike knew his place. He would stay back and watch with pain in his heart, just as long as El could be happy. 

Troy's and Will have been talking for a few minutes now, Troye seemingly ecstatic to see the smaller boy, and Will looking slightly scared of him. He seemed apprehensive, like he was waiting for something.

But Mike could care less about how Will knew Troye because right now he was just realizing that Troye hasn't been there at all for El in the last few weeks. 

Hell, Mike had to carry her home from a party, where she almost got raped! And Troye didn't go to the party with her! He should've been there!

Everything in Mike was just screaming at him to ask why Troye was even with her in the first place. Why she even stayed with him. Was she even happy? Was he better than Mike? Would Mike ever be enough? 

Mike probably would've kept asking himself the same detrimental questions in all of the different ways he could think of, but he was pulled out of his thoughts. 

"Hey, " Will looked over at Mike from his seat, a worried look in his eyes. "My mom just texted, she uh- she needs me to come pick out a dress for her date tonight. She's kind of freaking out, so-" Will threw his thumb over his shoulder with an awkward laugh. "See you tomorrow?" 

Mike nodded as he watched his friend with curiosity while he put on his coat. Will was nervous. Mike knew Will, and he knew that he always helped his mom with her outfits. 

Seemingly because she "dresses like an old hag" and Will didn't want her going out like that, but Mike knew it was just because he liked to help her with things like this. 

He'd never admit to that though, it was just too stereotypically gay, and if Will hated anything, it was stereotyping. 

The door of the diner shut behind the smaller boy and Mike watched closely as Will looked around the parking lot for something.

Or someone. 

That someone was Troye Walsh, now out of his work uniform, leaned up against his old Camry, a devilish smirk growing on his face as Will approached. 

Just a few minutes earlier, Mike didn't care if Will hung out with Troye. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of El to care about much of anything. But now, as he watched Troye sling an arm over Will's shoulder, he felt bile rise in his throat. 

No, they couldn't-

"Hey, Mike? Are you ok? You look pale." 

Mike looked over to Lucas and nodded, swallowing down the awful taste this left in his mouth as he began to stand up. "Yeah, I just think I need to head home. I'll pay you back for breakfast. Can you ride home with Dustin?" 

Lucas sighed as he gazed worriedly at his friend. "Yeah, I can. And don't worry about paying me back. Drive safe, man." 

He gave Lucas one last nod and tossed him his phone before making a beeline for the door.

As Mike stepped out into the morning air he watched Troye's Camry pull out of the parking lot, rolling down the road with Will in the passenger seat. 

He wasn't spying on them, he was just… concerned.

So he did what any concerned friend would do. 

He followed them. 

* * *

"Have any of you noticed that Troye doesn't pick on us anymore?" 

Mike looked across the cafeteria, eyes coming to rest on the popular kids table, eyes focused. 

For a while now, going to school has seemed different than before. Maybe it was because Troye didn't bully them anymore. 

"Who's Troye?" 

Maybe it was her.

Mike jumped slightly at El's voice, something he still hasn't come to get used to. Looking over he knows why, I mean, a girl that pretty is a shoo-in for a popular girl, yet she stays with frog face and the nerds. 

It feels like every day they grow closer now. It's only October, but Mike can't even imagine his life without El anymore. She's bright, like the sun, or the screen on his DS when he played Zelda late at night. 

Mike doesn't get out much. 

Dustin frowns at El, clearly trying to contain his intense hatred for the boy in question. "Just some jock dickbag. Don't worry about him." 

Dustin and El get along great. They both have very similar senses of humor, which Dustin finds slightly scary since El gets most of her jokes from Hopper, but regardless, they have that same kind of infectious laugh that makes everyone smile. 

Except Lucas.

Lucas rolled his eyes as he pulled the crusts off his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, eyeing El curiously. "Why? Thinking about ditching us finally?"

Lucas didn't like El. 

Well, that's not entirely true, because how could anyone hate El? She was a goddamn delight and Mike couldn't believe for a second that anyone would dislike her. 

Lucas just… hasn't given El a chance yet. 

Mike likes to say it's because Lucas is the mom of their friend group, and he gets overprotective. 

Lucas doesn't appreciate it when Dustin and Mike start calling him mom. 

"No, I just haven't heard his name before. He used to pick on you?" This question is aimed at Will, who shrugs at El's question.

Will loves El. It was as if the moment the two were introduced there was an instant connection. They've got the kind of bond a brother and sister would have, and it warms Mike's heart to see two of his best friends hanging out together all the time. 

"Uh, yeah. He used to." 

Will's hiding something. 

He always hesitates when he lies. 

But what would he know about Troye that the rest of the party didn't already? 

The question echoes in his mind as Dustin changes the subject to their newest campaign. Mike jumps in every few minutes to make a comment, but every time he ends up drifting back into his mind. 

Troye's been at boot camp since the end of July, so what happened had to have happened before. Why didn't Mike know about it already? Will told him everything, why was he hiding this?

"Your note today was really cheesy." 

Mike blinked and suddenly it was the end of the day and he was shoving stuff in his bag as El leaned against the locker next to his. 

"Oh, yeah?" 

She nodded before throwing her head back dramatically, the back of her right hand on her forehead as the other rested on her chest. "You shine brighter than any star!" 

Mike laughed and rolled his eyes, trying to hide his disappointment over her not taking the note seriously. 

Mike had been leaving El notes ever since late September. Most of them were super cheesy and poetic like, "your smile lights up the room." Or "you're the funniest person I know." Mike hated that he still did it, because not only did it always go over her head, but she always came back to him to jokingly tease him about them. 

He did his best to convincingly laugh again, a fake smile coming to his lips. "I'm gonna say it for the millionth time, El. I never said the notes were from me." 

El shook her head and laughed as Mike slung his bag over his shoulder and slammed his locker shut. 

"No, you'll never admit it, but I know it's true because you just can't get enough of me." A devilish smile came to her lips as the two started down the hall to Will's locker, where the party met every day after school. 

Mike laughed as he tried to swallow down the urge to kiss her right then and there, in the middle of the hall. "As if." 

El gasps and her eyes widen. "Do my ears deceive me, Micheal Wheeler? Did you just reference  _ Clueless _ ?!"

Mike laughs, this time genuinely. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."

El scoffs as they round a corner, only a few lockers down from Will's now. "That's it, the next time I watch a chick flick, you're watching it with me." 

Mike's about to reply when he spots something unusual. 

They're only a few feet from Wills locker, but thankfully, they're by a water fountain, creating a break in the lockers. 

A perfect hiding spot. 

Mike grabs El's wrist and receives a surprised squeak in response. He pulls her into the empty spot by the water fountain, completely distracted as he places his hand over her mouth. 

There, standing by Will's locker is Will, of course, but he isn't alone, and he certainly isn't with a friend. Because right in front of Will is Troye, trapping the smaller boy to his locker with his arms. 

Mike's first instinct is to run up and punch Troye in the face, to completely clock him in the jaw and not even worry about the consequences. That is until he sees Will's expression. 

Will is smiling. 

Why is he smiling? 

"Mike." 

In the confusion, Mike must have pulled El towards him, because when he turns back around, they're less than an inch away from each other, noses brushing as deep honey eyes look into his own. 

Mike realizes far too late that his hand has dropped down to her waist, keeping her trapped against him as he tries not to get lost in her eyes. 

They stay like that for what feels like ages, both gazing into the eyes of the other in wonder and awe. Mike can't move, it's hard to breathe, because he is so scared of messing this up, so scared that even the tiniest twitch will ruin their entire friendship forever. 

He's just about to run out of breath when suddenly El's eyes drop to his lips.

"Hey, guys!" 

"SHIT!" 

Mike flies backward, head hitting hard against the metal of the locker in an attempt to escape. El had the same idea, throwing herself backward and almost tumbling over the water fountain behind her. 

Mike looks over to see Will sporting a knowing look and a smile, watching as his friend's cheeks grow redder as they come back to the moment.

"Sorry, was I interrupting something?" He has his bag slung over his shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face as he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

_ God, fuck you too, Will. _

"No! Ew! Will please, just, ugh!" El pushes out of the small space and away from the water fountain, Wills gaze following her as she comes to stand next to him. "L-lets just go." 

Mike tries to ignore the way his heart sinks, nodding as he steps out of the shadows. "Yeah, let's go." 

Soon enough Dustin and Lucas join the three of them, walking with them to the exit of the school. The whole way to the bike racks El talks about her plan to make Mike watch cheesy rom-coms with her, something the whole party, even Lucas, agrees is a great idea. 

But Mike is distracted as he watches Will walk alongside him, a single thought echoing in his mind. 

_ What the fuck was he doing with Troye? _

* * *

Troye's house is the biggest on the block, probably the biggest in town. And while he technically doesn't own it, Mike knows that Troye gets his fair share of the money his parents earn. 

When Mike pulls up to the house, it seems like Troye and Will are already inside. The lights are on inside, and the only car in the driveway is parked and empty. 

So Mike parks his car across the street and gets out.

At first, Mike thinks knocking would be the best idea, but that might scare them away, or make them start running. 

So Mike does what any rational person would. 

He looks in through the window. 

And the sight that greets him is fucking horrifying. 

Troy's and Will are on the couch, half-naked and heavily making out. And not just heavily as in 'oh, ew', but heavily as in 'oh God I think they're about to fuck'. Will is on Troye's lap, and Mike thanks God that the couch has arms, because otherwise, he thinks he would've been paralyzed for the next ten years at least. 

Falling to the ground behind the hedges, Mike tries his best to swallow the vomit that he can feel coming up. 

The only thing he can do is sit there and ask himself, over and over, why?

And the only answer he can come up with is Troye. 

Troye is the one who gave him the nickname frog face in first grade, effectively turning every kid other than Will away from him. 

Troye was the one who had put Will and Dustin in the hospital for weeks after their fifth-grade retreat. 

Troye was the one who took El away from his life. 

And now, he was taking away one of the only people who had always been by his side.

For as long as he can remember, Troye had been fighting him, and Mike had never fought back. 

Today was different. 

Today, he was finally going to fight back. 

… If he could, that is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude, no matter what you're thinking, troye is an asshole. it doesn't matter if will thinks he's cute. he's! an! ass! hole!!!
> 
> leave me comments, they make me smile like a dope. 
> 
> i was listening to Paper Planes by Mia while writing the angry part and i dunno if that came across but when i read i back it's all i could think about so... 
> 
> all i wanna do is-
> 
> also, if you use HTML when posting on Ao3 you're a psychopath.
> 
> its 3 am bye.


	9. Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re·gret  
> /rəˈɡret/
> 
> verb
> 
> feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, especially a loss or missed opportunity).

Arguing. That's all she could hear. 

  


Mike repeatedly apologizing. 

  


Troye and El bickering. 

  


Will trying his best not to cry. 

  


Normally fighting didn't bother Max. She grew up with it. Dishes were thrown, voices raised, fists clenched. It wasn't anything new. 

  


But that was her family, and she had come to expect that from them. 

  


These were her friends, and they were all being total dickholes. 

  


"CAN EVERYONE PLEASE SHUT UP!" 

  


The room fell silent, all eyes going to Max, her cheeks flaming and her heart beating out of her chest. 

  


She swallowed, quickly realizing that she was the one in charge now. Everyone was looking at her. She had to say something. She had to do something. 

  


She sighed, her hand coming up to massage her forehead, trying to get rid of her headache. "Ok, Troye, El, just- just sit down." 

  


Max watched as Troye headed to one of the two armchairs, sitting stiffly as his feet began tapping. 

  


El scrunched her eyebrows from where she was standing, giving Max a look that seemed to ask what the hell she thought she was doing. The redhead just pointed to the couch with Will and Mike, trying not to notice the way El pinched her eyebrows in annoyance. 

  


Once everyone was seated, Max scanned the room before plopping down onto the last seat, her elbows on her knees. 

  


"We're gonna talk it out." 

  


Immediately there was an uproar of voices, shrill and quiet, deep and loud, every kind of sound coming from every possible direction. 

  


"SHUT UP!" 

  


They fell silent. 

  


"I don't care if you guys don't like it, you need to sort out this problem because from the looks of it I'm the only one here not involved." 

  


Mike's eyes widened. "What the fuck, Max? I'm not a part of this shit either!"

  


Max rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, everyone here knows you're still not over El, and you two didn't even date in the first place!" 

  


Mike leaned back, his head coming to rest on the back of the couch as he sighed. 

  


"And don't act like you're innocent either! You broke into Troye's house!"

  


Mike sat up, face pinched in anger. "I didn't break in!" A pause. "I just- hacked into the garage." 

  


Max crossed her legs and arms, trying to show some semblance of authority. "And that's better how?" 

  


No response. 

  


"Okay, so, let's start with Will."

  


The boy in question jumped, arms tightening around himself as he tried to retain some kind of modesty.

"Why are you here?" 

  


"Max, come on this is so stupid." 

  


"El, please just shut up and let him talk." 

  


Will looked up, hesitantly looking over to Troye, as if searching for something. 

  


His eyes were so empty. 

  


Max had never seen anyone look so inhuman. 

  


He didn't find whatever he was looking to Troye for. In fact, he found less than he expected. 

  


Tears were falling down his cheeks but no one could move. 

  


After all, he thought he was in love. 

  


It must've felt like a joke. 

  


* * *

  


" _I'm going to conversion camp."_

  


 _"What? I thought it was a boot camp?"_

  


 _"Yeah, well what do you want me to say, I'm totally gay and have been secretly dating one of the biggest nerds in school?"_

  


 _"I thought you said we were just friends?"_

  


 _"Come on, you're smarter than that Will. You know that was all bullshit."_

  


* * *

  


_"So what? Now that you're dating a girl is this over?"_

  


 _"What? No. El doesn't give a shit about me. I'm only dating her because I want to get in her pants."_

  


 _"Is that why you're dating me?"_

  


 _"I mean, it's a part of it."_

  


* * *

  


_"We're graduating."_

  


 _"Yeah. And?"_

  


 _"Is this over?"_

  


 _"Why would it be over? You're the only person who knows I like guys. I can't just let you go."_

  


 _"I love you."_

  


 _"Yeah, sure. Love you too."_

  


* * *

  


_"Mike's pissed at you."_

  


 _"He's been pissed at me? Why does it matter?"_

  


 _"He's my best friend."_

  


 _"Whatever. Just get in the truck so we can get to my place already."_

* * *

  


"Will? Hey. Will?"

  


Will opened his eyes. 

  


Mikes there. His hand is on Will's shoulder, rubbing circles into his skin. 

  


He's trying to help. 

  


It's not doing much. 

  


Will felt like he was drowning. 

  


He spent eight years with a boy who didn't give a shit about him. 

  


He lost his virginity to a boy who didn't give a shit about him.

  


Swallowing, Will forced his words out of his mouth, mind static and mouth fuzzy. 

  


"I loved Troye. I guess I convinced myself he loved me too."

  


Something warm slipped down his face and fell to the ground. Maybe they were tears. Will didn't care. 

  


"Ever since he started dating El I've just wanted out."

  


Will glanced in her direction. She looked like she felt sorry for him. Like she wanted to comfort him. 

  


_After all these years she finally decided to feel again?_

  


 _Too fucking late._

  


"I didn't have a chance to leave him. It was like I was trapped." 

  


For once Troye didn't try to defend himself. 

  


He just sat there. Looking at Will blankly as he tapped his feet against the floor. 

  


Faintly he heard Max move on to interrogate Mike, but he really couldn't hear much other than the static. 

  


He could only feel regret. 

  


Because it took him _eight years_ to realize just how thin the lines between love and hate were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short. 
> 
> But it doesn't make sense for all of them to have their stories pushed together into one. 
> 
> Each person can tell a different side of a story.
> 
> This was Will's.


	10. Mike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re·sent·ment  
> /rəˈzentmənt/
> 
> noun
> 
> bitter indignation at having been treated unfairly.

Max hates when people cry. 

Not because she feels bad for them. No, pretty much the opposite.

She finds it annoying. 

It's not very often that Max considers what others are going through, but at that moment, watching Will tell his truth, it was as if something in the world snapped. Like everything was thrown off-kilter and they just couldn't put it back. 

Because no one deserves what Will went through. 

_ No one.  _

But Max knows she can't show weakness. She can't just ruin her reputation for one person. Because if she did, then what did she spend the first eighteen years of her life building? 

So she swallowed her concerns for Will and turned to Mike, who was doing anything but refraining from helping. 

But Mike never was a very strongly-willed person, and Max can't say she expected anything less. 

The question was how he managed to _break into a house_. 

"Ok, Mike, why are you here?" 

Mike jolted, eyes glaring daggers at Max. "What? You're just ok with leaving Will like this? You're not even going to wait it out? What the fuck Mayfield?"

Max sighed. "Listen, I would be ok with spending more time on this if I had time. But El has a dinner thing with her dad and I have to stop by my parent's house later. So can we please just get this over with as soon as possible?" 

Mike sighed, eyes downcast as he slipped an arm out from behind the thinner boy, elbows coming to rest on his thighs. "What do you want to know?" 

Max pinched her eyebrows together in confusion. "Why are you here? I already asked."

Mike groans and buries his face in his hands. "It's not that simple Max. I'm not here for just one reason I-It's more like… I'm here for three." 

Max raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. "Ok, just start with the first one that comes to mind." 

Mike looked down at his feet, hands trembling against his chin as he shot a glance over at Will. He was still crying, but otherwise, he looked more lucid. Like he had come to terms with what happened. He didn't look peaceful, but he didn't look lost either. 

Mike swallowed, hands falling to his elbows to grip at the sleeves of his sweater. 

"You know what it's like having a best friend, right? Someone that you know better than anyone and you just want to keep getting to know them?"

Max nodded, forcing herself to keep looking at Mike despite how badly she wanted to look at El. Just to see that she was ok, just to see that she was still there, right beside her. 

"Ok, so you know how it is to see them making a terrible decision, to see that they're keeping a huge secret from you that is bringing them down."

Max caved and shot a look to El, heart beating fast as Mike just kept chipping away at her facade. 

Only El wasn't looking at Max. 

She was looking at Mike. 

And Max had never, _ever_ , seen her like she was now. 

Her face relaxed, lips slightly parted as a light blush rose on her cheeks. Eyes wide and full of the most potent look of… something Max had ever seen. 

Max had no idea what that feeling could've been, but that fire seemed to grow in her eyes with each second that passed. That look couldn't mean anything good. 

"You should know firsthand how it feels to see the one person you rely on most making a huge, huge mistake. To know that everything is crumbling and there's nothing you can do. Because they've made up their mind, and you've made up yours." 

And then she's in Mike's shoes. For the first time, she can see how it would feel. To watch the world fall apart around you. 

* * *

"Four days? That's a new record. Think she's coming back this time, loverboy?"

Mike took in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm currently bubbling up in his stomach. "Shut up Lucas." 

_He has a point though_. 

Mike knows she's slipping away. 

Ever since the note, she hasn't been acting the same. 

Spending time with Max, hanging out with the cheerleaders, talking to the guys on the football team. 

_Guys like Troye._

Rumor had it that El liked Troye. 

It made Mike _sick._

He swallowed as he looked over towards the table at the center of the cafeteria. "She wouldn't just ditch us like that. I'm sure she'll come to say hi any day now. I mean, it's only the first week of freshman year, she might come back." 

Will scoffed down at his sandwich, eyes not even moving away from his hands as he took a bite. "Emphasis on 'might'." 

Mike glared at the younger boy and scowled. "What does that mean?" 

Will shrugged as he swallowed and reached for his water bottle, eyebrows raised. "I'm just saying that sometimes people get sucked into popularity." 

"Or popularity gets sucked into people. Have you ever considered that Will?" Dustin raised his eyebrows as he tossed another chip into his mouth, eyeing Will with childish excitement. 

"Oh, bite me, Dustin." 

"Didn't know that was your kink." 

"OH MY _GOD_." 

Strangely, Mike blamed himself. 

He knew he didn't do anything. Well, not anything physical. He just slipped a note into her locker. 

_A note that probably creeped her out._

It wasn't his place to put it all out there like that. 

But he did anyway. 

And he _hated_ himself for it.

* * *

Max blinked away a few tears as she came back to the moment, hiding her splotched cheeks and wet eyes, quickly wiping away her tears before sitting up again, waiting for Mike to continue. 

"Back then, I just did what I felt was needed. I put my feelings out there and then everything just came tumbling down. El left, Will became more agitated, Troye started giving us glances again. It was like the past two years hadn't even happened and we were back to square one!"

Will seemed to come back at that, eyes swimming with concern as he turned towards Mike. "You really felt that way?" 

Mike nodded as his eyes dropped back down to his feet. "I didn't want to admit it, but I think I was depressed. The only glimpses of happiness I ever got after that were when the party got together to do our annual campaign, or when Holly told me about something new she learned, or when I would see El in the halls and she would smile at me."

Troye shot a look at El, raising an eyebrow. "Was that while we were dating?" 

El didn't hear him, because all of her focus was on Mike as he talked to the floor. 

"And then there was Will with all of his rants and his distracted looks, all of his glassy-eyed staring and his nearly obsessive doodling. It was all so secretive, and he never told me anything. I always expected there was something more to what was going on, but I was so lost at the time, I just couldn't reach out. Not until now. Not until I figured it out." 

Max looked away from Mike, trying her best to focus on anything else, on anyone else. She couldn't bear to look at his distant eyes and twiddling thumbs. 

He had to have known what he was doing. How he was breaking down her barriers with logic, how he was contradicting everything she had ever believed in. How she was being faced with all of the things she had been trying to avoid.

But he _didn't._

He never knew the effect he had on people. 

And he _never would._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to do it to em. 
> 
> my computer is about to die, so uh, good luck.


	11. Troye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> e·va·sion
> 
> /əˈvāZHən/
> 
> noun  
> the action of evading something.

Did Max want to hear Troye's excuses? 

No. No, she didn’t. 

But was she going to be able to face El right now?

Fuck no. 

Mike’s confession really wasn’t what Max expected at all. She thought he would be angry and jealous and would make it all about himself. 

Because that’s how Max always saw him.

But he wasn't mad. He wasn't making himself the victim. 

He was just saying what he knew. Stating facts. Telling truths.

And when Max listened to him, she felt like she was reliving something. 

Something she had been trying to forget. 

_ "I like you! Why won't you say anything!"  _

_ "Just give me time to think about it!"  _

She gulped, trying to compose herself.

_ "Max! I swear, it was just to make you jealous!" _

_ "It was to hurt me, nothing more to it."  _

Hurt. That's all he did. Hurt. Why did she hang out with him the other day? Was she leading him on? 

Was she leading _herself_ on? 

Pages and pages ripped from her diary, tears and tears staining the papers, sentences running with ink like blood from her nose, splotches on the page like bruises on her wrists. 

So she looked up to Troye and asked him. 

"Why are you here?" 

He didn't say anything for what felt like an eternity. 

An eternity filled with questions and missed chances and regret. 

So, so much regret. 

And he spoke. 

"I don't know." 

"Bullshit." 

Max wants to turn her head, wants to watch the argument between El and Troye unravel, wants to clap and cheer as El ruins herself, even more, just to keep going with this lie. 

But she doesn't. 

And Troye ignores El. 

Like he always has. 

* * *

"Why are you avoiding me?" 

"Why do you think?" 

Troye sighed, hands coming up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. 

He's been chasing Will for an hour now and he's starting to feel like it's going nowhere. 

They are going nowhere. 

They're walking along the outskirts of the quarry, talking in circles as they walk in circles and for some reason, neither of them are trying to leave. 

"I think that you're jealous!" 

"Jealous of a girl who you don't love? Yeah, totally. I'm jealous." 

Troye sighed as he quickened his pace, heaving breaths from his lungs as he came up next to the smaller boy. 

"I know you think I'm dating her because I like her but that's not it, I swear, baby, please just liste-"

Will stopped on a dime and spun in place, eyes finally coming to face him.

"Why then? Why are you dating El motherfucking Hopper? The school sweetheart who you KNOW I hate? To get back at me? To torture her? WHAT IS IT TROYE!?" 

It felt cold. Like something had taken all the air out of the world. It was empty. Uninhabitable. He couldn't take it. 

He couldn't face himself. 

So he grabbed Will by the wrist and kissed him instead. 

He kissed him until he knew he would forget. 

So he could forget. 

* * *

"We've been together since the end of Fifth grade. Will had become the main target of my insults around that time, he was just such a dorky kid you know? He was sweet and nice, and everything I never got to be. That was around the time I realized that hurting him wouldn't make my feelings go away."

It was weird, seeing Troye like this. 

_Vulnerable_.

"I think I did love him. At some point. I don't anymore, if I did I would've come out as bi way before now. But I haven't. And I won't." 

Max couldn't tell if he was accepting himself or rejecting himself. 

It felt like both. 

Will wasn't paying attention. He was just… stuck to his seat. Glued in place as he waited for the group to move on. 

And with that, there was only one person left. 

The reason why she was even in this mess in the first place. 

_El Hopper_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but so is my patience for those so yeah. 
> 
> Also. If you guys forgot about Lucas and Max's history... Shame on you. 
> 
> Jk, I don't blame you it's a mileven story, not a lumax story.


	12. Best Friends "Forever"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> judgment day.

If Max had the chance to go back and change something, it would be becoming a cheerleader. 

_ "I swear to god Max, we came here for the cardigan and that's it!"  _

Cheerleading is like a gateway drug. If you get into cheerleading, you get into gossip. If you get into gossip you get into drama. If you get into drama, you get tied up in popularity. 

_ "Yeah! But why was the cardigan here?" _

Honestly, Max should've turned the idea down from the start. 

_ "Because I left it in Troye's room!"  _

I mean, cheerleading? They had already gone to Stacey's party. They had to have experienced enough popularity for the three years of hell they had left. 

_ "And why was it in Troye's room?" _

Right?

_ "Because we used to date? Max what the fuck is-"  _

Max doesn't want to say it. She doesn't want to have to be here right now, confronting her best friend. 

But she was. 

And she is. 

She would rather zone out of the conversation to remember the nine months of pure bliss they had back in eighth grade. 

She fucking hated being the responsible one of the two of them. 

"Why did you date him? Why? I never told you to. I never encouraged you. Fuck, El I never said we had to be popular! You did that shit yourself! I just went along with it because you were my best friend and I thought it made you happy! I didn't want to  _ assume _ it was because of your stupid sister or your dad, because I just wanted to see you happy!" 

Max huffed and puffed, trying to bring in some amount of oxygen to cool down her nerves. To regain some kind of control. 

After she had, it was quiet. 

Like the nights they spent on the porch. 

Like the days they snuck out of practice to smoke on the bleachers. 

Like the times they would park the car and just look at the sky, searching for some kind of reason. 

"Were? We aren't best friends right now?"

Have you ever had a friendship die? Seen all the memories and laughter pass in your mind as you _scream_ and _cry_ and _beg_ for it to stop? 

_ Have you ever done it on purpose? _

"No, El, no we aren't. Because you fucked up, and now you're gonna face the consequences." 

It was over. They were over. Five years,  _ over _ . 

And with that, she stood up. Red hair trailing behind her as she left. 

Because right now, she would rather be at her parent's house. 

_ It's funny how you can enter someplace a whole person and leave in pieces.  _

* * *

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

_How did this happen?_

How did she get here? 

A cardigan. She lost her best friend over a _fucking_ cardigan. 

How the fuck does that make  _ any _ sense?

"Hey, uh I think I'm gonna head out too. Johnathan just texted saying Mom's freaking out so I think I'm just gonna walk home." 

Will was gone. 

"I'm going upstairs. If you two aren't out by the time my parents get home, I'll kick both of your asses. Even if one of you is a girl." 

El rolled her eyes. Being a girl had nothing to do with the ability to defend herself, but she would rather not argue right now. 

Because Troye was gone. And now it was just her and Mike left alone on opposite sides of the couch. 

The silence was deafening.

_ He probably thinks you're a slut now. Probably thinks you've fucked every guy on the north side of Hawkins.  _

_ Everyone other than him. _

"Do you want a ride home? I know you and Max came together, so if you need someone to take you home-" 

"Yes. Yeah, that would be nice." 

Mike's car was a lot like him. 

It was some kind of old model, worn and torn and probably once belonging to someone else, dust floating in the air around them as the A/C pumped out soft puffs of warmth. 

It was damaged, on the brink of breaking down, but it still did everything it could to keep going, to keep giving, and giving, and giving. 

"How are you so selfless?" 

The car jolted, Mike accidentally tapping the breaks before letting out a deep sigh and allowing it to go back to neutral. 

"What do you mean?"

El looked out the window, watching as the snow-covered trees passed them by, breath fogging the window as her reflection stared back at her. 

"I mean, all your life you've just been giving. Have you ever… taken anything?" 

In the reflection of the window, she watched as Mike bit his lip, deep in thought. 

"I guess-" he sighs. "No, that's stupid." 

El wants to do something stupid. She wants to so bad. It's so, so, so stupid. But she really, really wants to. 

And for the first time, nothing is in her way. 

Doesn't make it any less stupid when she reaches for his hand. 

"You can tell me. I've done a lot of dumb things, I'm sure it's not as stupid as you think." 

He doesn't speak for a while. He just stares at the road, focusing on making what he sees as the most difficult left turn in history. 

Eventually, he speaks. 

"I guess I've just never… wanted anything?" He glances at her. "No, I've wanted things, I just-" a shaky breath. Another left turn. "I don't think I've ever deserved anything." 

El blinks. "You… you think you don't deserve to get what you want?" 

"Not at the cost of others." 

Shit. Why was he so much better than her? Maybe he was smarter. Maybe he could see the future and how it affected people. Or maybe he just never took the chance. 

She wants him to take a chance. 

"So what have you wanted? What did you want that you never got?" 

He doesn't respond. He doesn't even flinch. He just makes the next righ- 

_Wait._

_No, he turned left again._

He turned left. 

_What the fuck does that mean?_

"Mike? I think you went the wrong way, my house is back that way." 

He keeps driving. 

Eventually, they end up in a clearing. Somewhere just down the road from her house, surrounded by snow and trees and god knows what else that lives in the forest. 

He parks the car. 

"Do you know what I've always wanted?" 

She stays silent, eyes fixed on Mike's profile as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. The warm air coming from the A/C turns off and he unbuckles his seatbelt. 

Her first thought is that he's getting out of the car. 

Then he turns to her, and for the first time in what feels like forever, she can see him. 

It's as if the way he looked at her was casting a spell on her. Wrapping her up in taffeta, pulling her into a warm hug and spinning her around, before finally releasing her. Leaving her wanting more, and more, and more. 

And she wants to do a stupid thing again. She really, _really_ wants to do something totally, completely _,_ irreversibly stupid _._

She leans forward anyways, and the second their lips meet it's as if everything else ceases to matter. 

The funny thing is, Mike never did get what he wanted. He never had. But El never really did either. She just thought she did. 

But for the first time, it seemed as though they were finally getting their way. 

So when Mike tilts his head just a bit to the right, El doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, lips gliding across each other as the world tilts and spins around them.

Because it's what they want. 

_How can that be bad?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats it for part one!
> 
> im considering taking a short break to free write maybe a few oneshots so if that's something anyone is interested in?
> 
> another thing. you guys like, will never know like anything about me IRL and i think that's just so funny I'm sorry. 
> 
> but like, how do you see me. like do you envision me as an old retired witch who lives in the forest with her wife Candice? 
> 
> feel free to let me know your Lii-sona.
> 
> I'll bet none of you can guess my age hahaha.
> 
> anyways, that's all for now, tell me what you think so far!


	13. Odysseus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe we all have to eventually face ourselves if we wanna be happy. like how you have to look in the mirror everyday and fuss over your hair, because you think It's ugly, even though its actually really pretty." 
> 
> El turned around and laughed. "What are you? my therapist?"
> 
> Mike frowned. "Ma'am its against the rules for me to be seeing a patient. Do you need a higher dose of your meds?" 
> 
> El snorted and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. 
> 
> -Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnnd we are BACK! 
> 
> Hey guys! welcome to part two. I hope you're ready, because things are about to get really, really crazy. 
> 
> before we start, I have a few small announcements that I'm excited to share. 
> 
> announcement one is the fact that I've completely laid out the story and now know where it ends, which means I can give you an estimate on how many chapters we have left. 
> 
> and the final number of chapters is...... 25!
> 
> on that same note, you may be asking, is there going to be an epilogue? 
> 
> yes. there are going to be several epilogues, because I'm also writing a one shot collection based in this universe. some are based off songs that really represent the fic, others are simply drabbles I think of while writing the actual chapters. So if your bummed we only have about seven chapters left, don't worry, Mike and El still have a lot of growing up to do. 
> 
> and finally my last announcement. 
> 
> in honor of hitting the halfway point, I've added new songs to my spotify playlist and worked out any old ones that don't fit anymore, as well as adding another summary to this chapter as a kind of way to set the mood of these final chapters. 
> 
> the link to the spotify playlist is here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2xOxiDS1iScU554cWkrAGI?si=cGCaoWLZS0Ko5Ob4LEiZew 
> 
> p.s. yes, I did change the cover too for the spotify playlist too. this may come as a suprise, since I never talk about it, but I'm actually an artist too. art is more of a calling to me than writing, but I love story telling so much and sometimes I just cant resist writing something. I really tried to capture the way the fic is meant the feel in the art and I really hope you can see it too!
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

“Wait- wait- wait- didn't Max say something about you having dinner plans?”

El whines as she rolls her head back. This is the fourth time Mike has stopped kissing her to ask meaningless questions, and while it's adorable, she would rather not think of anyone, or anything, other than Mike right now. 

They’re sprawled out in the back seat of Mike's car in the middle of nowhere, no sound other than low volume rock music and themselves. El doesn't quite remember when the kisses stopped being tender and started being desperate, but at some point, one of them ended up pulling them back here. Mike is leaned up against the car door, head pressed up against the glass of the window as his hands rest on El’s hips, and then her face, her hair... uh, well, they're everywhere. El is halfway straddling him, knee trapped between his legs as she takes the wheel, realizing that Mike doesn't have any experience at all. Frankly, it’s adorable, and she really wouldn't have it any other way.

She tilts her head up to meet his eyes before leaning forward to talk into his ear. “Mike, I swear to god, I’ve been waiting six years for this moment, can we just, not talk about something Max said?” she smiles when he shivers lightly underneath her, grinning as she plants soft kisses along his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. 

El savors the feeling of Mike’s hands trailing up her body to her hair, threading strands through his fingers. “El, I couldn't fucking agree more, but-” 

She cuts him off by kissing him yet again, letting her tongue run over his bottom lip as he instantly kisses her back, letting their mouths melt together. 

El’s never, ever experienced something like this. All the times she's ever done anything remotely similar, it's just been seeking pleasure, like with Max, or just been uncomfortable, like with… 

You know who. 

God, she had no fucking idea Troye had done all of that shit. Bullying Mike like that, leading Will on, cheating on her. 

If she ever sees that dickhole ever again, she is going to castrate him. 

But that doesn't matter, because this isn't like all those times with Troye or with Max. Because, for the first time, it isn't just mindless, it's emotional too. 

She’s almost entirely certain she's in love with Mike. Not childhood him, but the real him, the Mike that's here with her today. The one that earns minimum wage at a diner on campus and lives with his best friend. The one that always sits at the same table in the library and loves talking about old movies that most people think are cheesy. The one that just an hour and a half ago, admitted to liking her, out loud!

Knowing someone likes you is one thing, but hearing them say it?

God, El could just die.

Those little notes he left her every day- she really thought he was just trying to be friendly with those, she always assumed the notes were a friend thing and that the joking and the teasing weren't meant to be actual flirting. She never considered that Mike was just a naturally good person, someone who wanted to see her smile. 

Wait… 

Was Mike… 

In love with her? 

No, that’s impossible, I mean, he would've told her already.

Right?

Mike groaned before pulling away one final time. "Ok, I actually have dinner plans too, so…" 

El buried her head in his shoulder and hugged his torso. "I hate that you won't let me ruin my life." 

Mike laughed and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, I did once, so I'm never doing it again." 

El sat back on her feet, hands going around Mike's neck as she gave him an accusative glance. "What do you mean by that?" 

Mike paused, eyes going completely blank before he shook his head. "Doesn't matter, let's just go." 

El watched him climb up to the front seat with longing, eyes following his frantic search for his keys. 

She let out a sigh before climbing up to the front, curling her fingers around the sleeves of her cardigan. "You left them in the ignition."

Mike looked over to her before glancing down at the ignition, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Thanks."

El looked out the window as Mike pulled back out onto the road, fingers drawing little circles in the warm moisture of the surface, small droplets falling from the lines she drew. "No problem."

* * *

_ Please leave a message after the tone. _

_ beeeeeeeep _

“Hey, I’m um, sorry for calling you this late, I know you're probably at dinner with your dad, but um, I just.. I really wanted to say I'm sorry… I mean…”

… 

“No, you know what? I'm done being sorry. Why am I always the one that's sorry? Why am I always the wrong one? I'm done with this shit, call me when you feel like being the El you used to be.”

Max clicked the red button on her Blackberry, finally hanging up.

This was stupid. She was sleeping over at her family’s house on a holiday, literally the least safe place to be in Hawkins probably ever, and she was on the couch just waiting for Billy to get home from his shift at the hawk.

Yeah, Billy was a twenty-two-year-old living with his parents, but he was anything but a hermit. 

For as long as Max could remember Billy had been her tormenter. Her torturer. He'd been shoving her since she could walk, punching her since she could talk, throwing plates at her once she memorized her multiplication tables. 

He hated her for so many things. Things he always reminded her of. 

_ "Attention whore!"  _

_ "Stuck-up bitch!"  _

_ "Slutty redhead!"  _

Things she wasn't. The things she was scared to be. The things she had tried so hard not to be. 

The things she became. 

El hadn't tried to call her once since she blew up at her, and while she felt a little sad about that, she knew it was for the best. 

It used to be that Max loved El and loved the idea of getting popular, because it was what made her happy, and if El was happy, she was happy, right? But she wasn't. She wasn't happy. 

For her whole life, Max swallowed her pride and hid behind a tough exterior, and what she thought was a tough interior. Because she didn't allow herself to get distracted. She didn't let herself dwell on things that made her weak, things that upset her. 

Like popularity. 

Mainly popularity. 

But also Lucas, and Jenny, swiping Billy's Marlboro's in eighth grade, liking girls. 

Shit that confused her, hurt her, made her angry. 

And while she loved to make people think all she ever was was angry, it could never, ever be real. 

That's why she hated being home. Because at home, no matter where she hid, her fear came to find her, came to break her down little by little with each strike, and shouted demand. 

With each yanked hair and pained grunt. 

With each time CPS told her it was no big deal, small town, small rules. 

So she waited for it to start, counted the minutes that passed before she was kicked around, and badgered with disappointment.

The door blew open, and there he was, blonde mullet still atrocious and evil snarl tattooed into his features. 

"Why the fuck are you home you little bitch?" He stomped over, shoving his car keys in his pocket and clenching his fists, ready to strike, as he always was.

Max tried to swallow the tremble she knew was in her voice, trying to hide it, not even think of it. 

Like everything else. 

“El and I got in a fight." Max bites down on her bottom lip, trying to ignore the pathetic little tremble that goes through it. "I don't have anywhere else to go.”

Billy glares at her before heading for their kitchen, fists clenched, and steps heavy. "You could've stayed on the fucking street." He swings the fridge open and grabs a beer, popping off the cap with his teeth as he comes back over to the couch. "Then I wouldn't have to be reminded that I have a slut for a sister." 

Max pushes herself against the far left arm of the couch as the right side dips under Billy's weight, his knees so far apart that they almost brush hers, despite it being a three-person couch. "I'm not a slut Billy! I've told you before, I don't sleep around!"

Billy scoffs as he leans back into the worn leather cushions. "Really? I would've assumed you'd have fucked everyone at that college by now, seeing as what's in someone's pants doesn't fucking matter to you." 

Max swallows the bile that continues to rise in her throat, trying to ignore the way the back of her mouth burns from the taste. 

Billy only knew about her and El because he saw them once at a pep rally. El had made up this really adorable cheer, ("something something go Tigers!") and the look on her face when everyone joined in was just too fucking cute. It was just after they had started… whatever you want to call it. The second the bleachers started to empty Max had practically dragged El around the corner to 'talk'. ("yeah, sure Jenny, that's what we're doing…") 

Little did Max know that her brother was there with some bitch on the squad named Becky, who was a junior when he was nineteen, shoving his tongue down her throat, apparently something she liked, which, ew. They hadn't even seen them, I mean, it was getting dark out and the alley between the gym and the cafeteria buildings was never lit up, so could you blame them?

But the second Max had pinned El against the wall, Billy made himself known by walking out of the shadows, girl on his hip as he shoved her to the ground and screamed "Dyke slut!" right into her ear, breath smelling like cheap liquor and freshly rolled blunts. Becky had been so drunk, I don't think she could've remembered if she tried, and El… she had just started crying. 

It was a night both of them had tried to forget because it had been so fucking awful for both of them. Max had to drag El back to the car, and then she saw Mike in the parking lot with Dustin, and she had broken down. Max had to stay the night and cuddle her just so she could know that someone had cared, and of course, when she got home the next day, Billy verbally assaulted her about how she had 'disgusting dyke sex' last night, even though they'd not even gotten past second base at that point, which somehow made it that much worse because he was calling her out for shit she hadn't even done.

Max swallows roughly. "Yeah, well at least I remember sleeping with someone when I wake up the next morning." 

Billy growls and crushes his can of beer in his hands, liquid spilling out between his fingertips and dripping all over the couch. "What did you say skank?" 

Max huffs and stands up. She's really not in the mood for her guts to be pulverized right now. "Nothing. I'm gonna go pick up my stuff from El's place. Don't follow me because her dad's a cop, he'll actually stop you from beating my brains out, unlike dad."

She absently grabs her jacket from the hanger by the door as Billy frantically tries to clean the cushions of the couch, crushed beer can forgotten on the floor. She doesn't even look back once she's closed the door. 

She can't go to El's place yet. Maybe she can go to that Jiffy Lube that she and El always used to smoke at. Maybe they have strawberry Fanta still in stock.

* * *

"El! What took you so long? I need help with the potatoes!" 

El sighs and kicks off her sneakers, cardigan draped over her arm as she looks over to the kitchen on her right, Hop's head peering just around the corner. 

El sighed as she walked into the kitchen. "You know it's a dinner, not a potluck. Didn't your date say they were making dinner at their house?" 

Hop turned back to stirring the potatoes, which were the consistency of melted ice cream. "What's with all this 'they' stuff? Is it a college thing?" 

El snorted as she turned the faucet on the wash her hands, tossing her cardigan over to the tiny dining room table. "Well I didn't want to assume. I guess it kind of is a college thing. Non-binary people and all that." 

Hopper stopped stirring and turned to his daughter. "Non-what now?" 

El gripped her stomach as laughs rippled out of her, chest heaving to try and take in some amount of oxygen, gripping the counter to try and maintain her balance. "Don't you worry your small-town head about it." 

Hop guffawed and let the wooden spoon he was stirring with fall to the side of the bowl. "For your information, young lady, I used to be stationed in New York, which is much, much bigger than Chicago." 

El took in a deep breath, reaching up to grab the salt off of the counter and landing it to her father. "Yeah, you were stationed in New York in the eighties. It's 2012 now dad, get with the times." 

Hop rolled his eyes and snatched the salt from her hands, mumbling under his breath about 'goddamn kids'. 

El watched her dad pour in the salt and reached over to grab another package of instant potatoes. "So… am I gonna hear anything about your date or am I just gonna have to meet them?" 

Hopper grabbed the package from her hands as he smiled. "Nope. You know the rules. You have to give me your unbiased opinion. Go talk to Max if you're so adamant about gossip. God knows you two eat that shit up."

El tried to ignore the way her heart sunk at Max's name, keeping a straight face as she grabbed the empty packets from the counter to get rid of them. "We don't gossip. Max always hated gossip, mainly because a lot of the girls on the squad liked to gossip about her." 

Hop belly-laughed and tapped the side of the bowl with the spoon, sliding it into the microwave. "Yeah, Max sure does have a temper. When is she getting back from her parents with the stuff she needed? I wanna make sure the door is unlocked for her." 

El swallowed and turned away from Hop, trying to ignore the burning tears that were threatening to leak out of her eyes. "Uh, she didn't say. You should leave the door unlocked for her. Just in case." 

_ Just in case she comes back. _

Hop nodded. "Ok. You can go get ready, I know you want to. Besides, I need to get changed out of my uniform too. Can't show up to dinner and scare Joyce's kids!" 

El perked up. "Oh, so her name's Joyce, huh?" 

Hop pointed his hand towards her bedroom door. "Get changed, you dork." 

El laughed and grabbed her cardigan before running off to her room and shutting the door behind her, giggles reverberating around the tiny cabin even as the door clicked shut.

Her room was still the same as it was when she left for college. Bright green walls and yellow comforter making the place seem that much brighter, drawers stuffed with old binders full of drawings and books about social work with college pamphlets stuck between the pages. 

It's almost as if she never left. 

El sighed and tossed the cardigan back down onto her bed, feet light as she fell back onto her bed, causing a loud creak. 

She can barely believe what just happened. 

Mike Wheeler-  _ the Mike Wheeler _ \- kissed her. On the lips. Without being dared to or anything. 

El reaches for one of her pillows, burning her face in it as she kicked her legs. 

She's wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. Days spent with fingers inches apart, knees brushing together while they are lunch, cheesy locker notes- 

_ The notes! _

El sat bolt upright, throwing her pillow to the floor before falling to her knees in front of her bed, hands frantically searching underneath her wiry bed frame for the all too familiar shoebox full of memories. 

Her hand brushed a rectangular object and she quickly grabbed it, dragging it out into the light. 

But it wasn't the shoebox. 

It was a journal, a faded red journal covered in doodles of stars and hearts, metallic cat stickers wearing at the edges, no longer sparkling in the late evening light. Dead center, right where the notebook left space to label it, instead of putting her name, she'd put several glittery star stickers and drawn flowers in each of the corners of the box, the word 'diary' in cursive over the little remaining space.

How did she forget about this? Back when she was thirteen, this journal was what kept her grounded. It was one of the few places where she kept all her thoughts. Thoughts that even Max didn't hear about. 

El thinks she got it from the therapist she visited for a few weeks in seventh grade. It probably would've been a long term thing if the insurance had ended up covering it all. Instead, Hop ended up having to shell out about two-hundred extra for each visit, since apparently therapy in Hawkins was not a super popular thing. Picket fences can better hide your feelings than pills. But of course, Hop was a small-town cop. His salary earned him enough to pay for water, electricity, and gas bills, and if they were lucky, maybe one week they could get food that was better than frozen dinners. 

Regardless, El took the journal very seriously. If she started thinking of something that bothered her, it always went down in the journal. It eventually got to the point where she would carry around a packet of sticky notes just to stick them in there later. Just holding it in her hands she could see the bright pink sheets peeking out of the sides as if trying to break free. 

El sighed and opened the journal.  _ It's been a while, what's it gonna hurt if I just read a few pages? _

The first page was basically a repentant paragraph about why she thought this journal was stupid, which boy, did that opinion change fast. She couldn't remember ever hating the journal, but apparently, she had felt the need to express that in a paragraph of text. 

~~_ Dear diary, dear journal? No, that's stupid. I'll give it a name. My therapist's name. LOL. _ ~~

_ Dear Helen,  _

_ I think this is a stupid idea for stupid people.  _

El felt herself shake with laughter before shakily going to turn the next few pages. Yeah, that was enough of that. 

She stopped flipping when her eyes fell on a certain page of her journal, one filled with tons of doodles and stickers, with probably about ten sticky notes crammed into the spine. 

_ Dear Helen,  _

_ (Yes, she kept that.)  _

_ Today I started school. Hop said that everyone would like me, but I don't think they do. Except for this boy named Mike. Today, he smiled at me and it was probably the cutest thing I've ever seen. I'm so happy I get to sit with him in English now. Maybe he'll invite me to his table for lunch tomorrow. I wonder what his friends are like. Does he have a girlfriend? Probably. He's too cute not to. Whatever, it's fine.  _

El swallowed. God, she sounded so girly here, like she didn't care who knew about this crush. She didn't even know he was a nerd or anything. No pretenses or hesitation. Just,  _ he's cute. _ That's it. Plain and simple. 

God, she wishes it could've stayed that way forever. 

El flicks through the next couple of pages. She stopped writing for a little while after school got out for summer that year, probably because it felt like there wasn't anything to report. She was happy. Happier than she had been in a long, long time. 

The first entry after that came the first day of eighth grade. It wasn't very long, just a few words and a post-it note that said:  _ "7:50 AM. I just met the coolest girl ever and she knocked my math teacher out with her skateboard. She said I could be her friend. Like, how awesome is that?" _

That's when she shut the book. 

She remembered that day so clearly, it nearly hurt. She had been rushing to try and find her locker, hoping and praying Mike would be in her homeroom, and then she was on the floor, wondering if Max's hair was naturally that red or if she had dyed it. 

_ (It was totally natural, which… wow _ .)

But that's where the entry stopped. It didn't mention Mike or the party or Dustin's god awful puns. 

That was the moment it hit her. 

She didn't write about them that day, or the next day, or anytime after that, because she didn't talk to them after that. She sat with Max at their table in the corner and traded jokes, completely oblivious to what she had done. 

Because she thought Mike hadn't cared about her that much. Almost no one did back then. The only person she knew who cared was Hopper. Because what other reason would a retired detective have to take in the human version of dirty laundry? 

Why did she want to be popular? Was it a pride thing? A way of proving to herself that she wasn't just a victim? To pretend that she hadn't missed the first twelve years of her life? 

Had she ever come to accept that she was nearly sold to strangers more times than she could count? 

I mean, she had always told herself it was her way of doing all the things Kali never got to do, the things she would stay up at night talking about. 

_ "I dunno, maybe if I ever get out of this place I'll become one of those stereotypical cheerleaders with a jock boyfriend and a school full of people who worship me. It would be a nice change from having to suck old guys dicks for cash."  _

_ "Like in Mean Girls?"  _

_ "Yeah. Just like that." _

I mean, that was what Kali had wanted her to do, right? Carry out her legacy?

What was it she wrote in that note all those years ago? Her final goodbye. What did she say?

_ Don't let it define you, Jane. You can rise above all of this. Create your destiny. _

Create your  _ destiny _ . 

What did that mean? What was she creating? What was there left to create? She had been the most popular girl in school. Why wasn't she happy with that? Wasn't that what Kali had wanted for her? For her to overcome it all and rise above? 

_ This is stupid. Stop overthinking it. You did great. Kali would be proud.  _

Sighing, she set the journal on her bedside table, arm stretching up to place it down with the mountains of work for her Psych class. Maybe she could read the rest of it later. 

This time, she did find the box, and when she opened it, she felt her heart nearly skip a beat. 

Notes in every shape and color coated the inside, nearly overflowing with sticky notes and napkin doodles, torn pieces from worksheets, and overexposed polaroid pictures. 

It was as if you had shoved everything she had once loved in a box. 

Reaching in, she pulled out one of the older notes, probably the fifth or sixth one he had left her. Sweat still somehow stained the paper. 

_ Your thesis statement for your essay on the Odyssey was really smart. _

Really smart. She chuckled to herself at that. Mike Wheeler, calling her smart? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. 

What was her thesis on the Odyssey anyway? She hadn't really been trying that hard, just writing what stuck out. What was it? 

_ The disguise works not only for practical objectives but for hidden goals also. _

_ Huh. _

_ Why does that feel so ironic?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I did compare Ellie to Odysseus. you can't do anything about it though, because it's perfect and you know it. 
> 
> when i first started this chapter i got really worried that these transitions would be jarring (hahahahah get it. because the acronym for the fic is JAR? hahahahah.) but they honestly turned out great, and I'm really proud of how this came out.
> 
> hm I wanna do that thing where you guess stuff about me again. what about my favorite color? or like, a color that you think of me as. that would have some interesting results. 
> 
> anyways, I'll let you go now! bye!!!!!


	14. Strawberry Fanta and Flashbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE NOTE, IT'S IMPORTANT!!!
> 
> hey guys, so this chapter is gonna get really heavy towards the end, so just a warning to people who are victims of abuse or people with PTSD, this chapter might not be the best to read after Jonathan walks in. 
> 
> for people who wish to skip, im gonna sum up what you need to know in the endnotes, so if you start getting uncomfortable, just scroll past it.
> 
> please enjoy this Max-centric chapter!

“Stupid fucking lighter.”

Max sighed as she flicked her Zippo, watching as a spark appeared before fizzling out again just as quickly.

“God fucking damn it,” she muttered as she shoved the lighter in her pocket, reluctantly reaching over to grab her Strawberry Fanta, twisting off the cap before taking a drink.

The Jiffy Lube on the corner of Maple and Main is pretty much always empty. People in Hawkins are all either superstitious eighty-year-olds or overprotective soccer moms, so car accidents never really happened all that often. When they do they always end up being caused by road trippers on their way to Chicago or Indianapolis or whatever. 

They never happen in winter though, which is odd, because even where she's leaning against the hood of her red Mercedes Benz she can see the tin layer of ice and slush that covers the salted roads. Salt seldom helps the roads in Hawkins, because after one day it's just gonna freeze over again, and the mayor doesn't have enough money to pay the road-salting guys money to do it every day. Max hasn't seen one of those trucks since she’s been back home though, so maybe he just gave up entirely at this point. People who live here are used to it, so why not just leave them to figure it out. 

_ Thank you, mayor.  _

The only reason El and Max liked hanging out there was because of the Fanta vending machine they had. 

They had discovered it one time at the end of junior year when Max had made a wrong turn on the way to a party and had to turn around. El had been looking out the window like she always did before anything social, worrying about things that Max knew she didn't care about when she had yelled at Max to stop her three-point turn and park. Max remembers how she practically flew out the door, screaming at Max about some kind of miracle before she rounded the building to the side where the dumpsters normally were. Max had followed, wondering if this was some kind of way to get out of another party with Troye, rounding the corner just like El had before letting her eyes widen. 

It was an entirely Fanta vending machine. No coke or sprite or anything bland like that, just Fanta. And it wasn't even just like, three kinds of Fanta, it was six different flavors. 

Needless to say, El called Troye to tell him her normal excuse about Aunt Flo before rushing back to the car to get them a pack of Marlboros, a handful of change from Max’s cupholder and a lighter. 

It was fucking stupid now that she’s thinking about it.  _ I mean, it’s Fanta, not the fountain of youth or something.  _ But then again, for them, it kinda had been a fountain of youth. Desperately trying to grasp onto memories of their childhoods as they moved onto their final year in their hometown. 

Max groaned as the air grew colder, quickly capping her soda and balancing it between her knees as she reached for her lighter again, taking that same cigarette she’d been trying to light for the past hour between her lips, trying to block the breeze as her lighter struggled against the wind. 

“Come on, come on, come on…” 

Suddenly the light flared to life, flames licking the ends of the paper as Max internally cheered, letting her eyes slip shut in relief. 

“What? No thank you?”

Max slipped on the hood as her eyes flew open to see a tall shadow standing next to her, hands shoved into his jeans. 

“Lucas.” 

He nods. “Yup. The one and only.” 

Max scoffs, not even bothering to take the cigarette out of her mouth as she mumbled around it. “Lucas is a really common name. It's not just you.” She loosely took a drag, raising her hand just a bit so she could stabilize it between her fingers, blowing smoke back into Lucas’s face. He blushed. 

“You know what I mean.” he stared at her for a few seconds before glancing around the parking lot. “Where’s El?”

Max scoffed. “Probably making out with Mike.” 

Lucas jumped, eyes widening in excitement. “What? He finally did it!? My man!” he jammed his right hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a dinged up Nokia. “I have to call him-” 

Max leaped up, hands coming up to yank Lucas’s wrists back down to his sides in her panic, cigarette falling to the ground with a light plink. “No!” 

Lucas blinked down at her, eyebrows raised, and cheeks flushed. “You  _ don't _ want me to congratulate my best friend for finally getting some?”

Max groaned and let go of his arms, feeling a wave of relief when he slipped his phone back into his pocket. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh. “You can, just, not now.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Why?” 

Max ran a hand through the hair of her ponytail, moving back to lean against the hood and mentally cursing herself for wasting a cigarette. “Me and El kind of had a fight earlier.” 

Lucas’s eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up, before he burst out laughing, trying to catch his breath as he spoke through chuckles.”Oh, man, you got me good. I almost believed you for a second there.” Max uncapped her Fanta and took a long sip, letting the sugary sweet flavor distract her as she avoided Lucas’s eyes, his laughter dying down into an awkward silence. “Wait, are you serious?”

Max nodded, capping her Fanta once again before reaching for another cigarette and her lighter, sending Lucas a glance. He nodded and came over to lean against the hood next to her, cupping his hands against the wind as Max lit the end of the so-called ‘death stick’. 

She let herself watch the embers on the end turn grey for a moment, wondering only for just a moment if she could have changed what had happened. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Max looked over to Lucas, trying to ignore the way her heart thudded against her chest when her eyes caught how the light reflected off his chestnut skin. He had always been a handsome guy, really, one of the only guys Max found attractive, but why it was making her mouth dry and her brain short circuit now, she had no idea. She shook her head, eyes going up to look into the inky blue of the late evening, faint traces of orange hidden just beyond the trees as stars beamed at her happily, taunting her for being so alone. 

She took a drag and held the sick out to Lucas, her hand opened up in an inviting gesture. She waited for him to take it, but when he didn’t, she looked over to him. His eyes were glassy as he stared at her, mind far away, she felt embarrassment rise in her, her face scrunching into a scowl on instinct. “What?” 

Max saw him visibly jolt and glance away from her. “N-nothing! You're just…” he hesitated but Max watched him patiently, heart beating in rhythm with the god awful classical music the attendant at the station listened to. “You’re so much prettier than I remember.” 

Max flushed, eyes widening as her eyes flicked to the ground and then back up to the sky, taking her hand back to her mouth to take a long drag to distract herself. She felt her cheeks cooling down in the night breeze, but that feeling remained, the one of anticipation, the kind you get before something new begins. Something great. 

Max let out one long stream of smoke before glancing over to him, a smile on her face. “I'm gonna be honest with you here, okay? And you're gonna listen to every word I have to say, and you're not gonna make a peep the entire time, got it?”

Lucas nodded, a look of stunned relief on his face as a trembling hand came up to his lips in a zipping motion, silently communicating that his lips were sealed. 

Max handed her cigarette to Lucas and he stared at it for a few seconds before returning his eyes to her, watching as she came to stand in front of him with fake confidence, a leather jacket hanging off of one of her shoulders as her ponytail whipped in the wind, red strands standing out against the blue sky. 

“I'm still pissed at you, I think I always will be, but I'm coming around to the idea of…” she looked down, her confident mask faltering a bit. “Us. Together.” She let a hand trail up her arm nervously. 

_ God, why was she being such a girl about this? _

“So, maybe we could go out sometime. On an official date.” she looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. 

Lucas was pretty much frozen in shock, eyes bugging out of his skull as she looked at him, mouth slack as he tried to process if what was happening was  _ actually _ happening. Then, all at once, his face split into a huge grin, hand nearly crushing Max’s cigarette in his fingers. “Yes! Yes, I would lo-” 

Max held up a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up as he looked up at her. “On one condition.” 

Lucas gulped and spoke, his lips brushing against Max’s pale finger. “Anything.” 

Max removed her hand from his lips, crossing her arms and standing up determinedly. “I want to talk to Jenny, with you. I want to know about your relationship since it hurt me so much, and I miss her. As a friend. Can you do that?” 

Lucas nodded. “Deal.” 

Max smiled and came back down to lean against the hood of her car. “Cool.” 

The sky was completely dark now, stars sticking out stark against the sky like white paint against the blacktop of the parking lot. Max took her cigarette back, but before taking a drag, she held it out to Lucas. 

“Are you sure you don't want a drag?” 

Lucas looked over to her with a nervous smile. “I've never had one before.” 

Max gasped. “What! How!? You dated Jenny! Other than me and El, she was like, the one person I knew who secretly could go through like, three packs a day. How have you not tried it?” 

Lucas shrugged and looked to the ground in embarrassment. 

Max sighed. “Hey.” she waited for dark brown to meet light seafoam green eyes, a gentle smile on her face. “Do you want to try?” 

Lucas pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing. “What if I get addicted?” 

Max rolled her eyes. “Please. Do you think I don't know how to put someone through rehab? I've done it to myself. Several times. Trust me, it'll be fine.”

Lucas hesitated for a few more seconds before taking the stick from her fingers, eyes running over the object in wonder before he hesitantly raised it to his lips. “So, I just breathe it in?” 

Max nodded. “Yeah. try and imagine you're pulling the smoke down into yourself, like you're just letting it flow down your throat.” 

Lucas nodded and took a long drag, eyes tearing up before he came back up coughing, sending Max into a spiral of giggles. 

“God, that tastes awful.” Lucas wheezed, reaching for Max’s Fanta, which she happily handed over. 

“What? Did you think it would taste like vanilla ice cream or something?” she laughed as she watched Lucas chug nearly half of what was left in the bottle of Fanta. 

He finally came up for air, handing the bottle back to Max before rubbing his mouth with his sleeve. “No, I just didn't think it would taste like  _ that.” _

Max laughed and looked up at the sky, a sudden realization hitting her. “Shit, what time is it?” 

Lucas looked at his watch. “Seven-thirty. Why?” 

Max groaned and took a final drag from her cigarette, tossing it to the ground and stomping out the embers angrily. “I have to go get my stuff from El’s place so I can stay at home with my stupid fucking brother.” 

Lucas watched as she frantically gathered up her things from her hood, unlocking her car and then opening the door to slide into it. He didn't move from his spot. 

“Dude, what are you doing? I have to go.” Max called out to him, the door still open so she could talk to him.

Lucas jumped up and ran to the other side of the car, opening the car door and slipping inside. “Stay at my place instead.” 

Max looked at him with wide eyes and creased eyebrows. “What?” 

Lucas jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “My house isn't that far from here. That's actually why I came here today, I like Pineapple Fanta so…” he cleared his throat. “Stay with me.”

Max smiled and started the car, shutting her door behind her as the soft beat of some Vampire Weekend song played on the old radio. “Ok, you’ve got yourself a new roommate.” 

Lucas laughed as she pulled away from the Jiffy Lube parking lot, driving down the all to familiar winding roads surrounded by trees as conversation flowed easily. 

It was almost everything she could've ever hoped for.

* * *

“You said she had kids, right?”

Hopper grunted as his hand came up to rap against an old screen door, frame shaking with each little thud. “Yeah, two of ‘em. One your age I think.” 

El huffed. “So you’ll tell me about her kids but not about her?”

Hopper kept his eyes glued to the screen as he let out a soft chuckle. “You're literally about to meet her. I don't think I’d have much time to tell you anything.” 

El laughed and tightened her grip on the plastic container full of potatoes, eyes screwing shut momentarily. “What about a name? Then I can introduce myself without embarrassing you.”

Hopper sighed and finally turned to look at El, a slightly disgruntled look on his face. “It’s-”

Just then, the door swung open, revealing a short woman. She was probably in her fifties, like dad, but she still looked so young, bright brown hair and shining eyes, a naturally beautiful person. And then her smile, it was so, so warm. It made El long to get to know her, spend time with her, share all her worries with her. But something about that face… seemed all too... familiar. 

“Joyce!” 

El jolted out of her stupor as the screen door flew open with a loud creak, a wave of air zooming out to flow into El’s skirt, dark blue fabric dancing in the wind as El shivered. 

“Hey! You're early!” Joyce smiled, her voice light and airy as she looked between Hopper and El. “And this must be-”

El cuts her off, tossing the potatoes to hop and shoving her hand forwards. “Jane. But I’m sure you already know me as El.”

Joyce nods and shakes her hand politely. “Yes, he does talk about you quite a lot.” she shoots an accusatory glance at Hopper, who is clutching at the plastic container with an iron grip. “Makes you seem like a handful, but you seem sweet.” she smiles and releases her hand, stepping back to open the door fully. “Why don't you come in, my boys should be ready in a few minutes.”

El steps inside and lets herself be drawn in by old, yellowing lights. This house is ancient. Like, shag carpets everywhere except the kitchen and bathroom, ancient. The walls are covered in this light yellow paint that makes El think of her childhood and the place is littered with candles and quilts. It reminds her of a lot of the pictures dad has of his old house, all soft and cushioned and warm. 

“Did you move the couch?” her dad staggers in behind her, still reeling from being the target of potato missiles. 

Joyce blinks before turning away to look into the den. “Oh, yes, I thought the place could do for a rearrangement.” 

El smiles and silently removes herself, easily slipping the potatoes out of Hop’s hands as she goes off to the dining room, which is easily seen from the front door. As she walks she lets her surroundings settle in. Photos, framed finger paintings, and framed professional paintings scattered on the walls haphazardly in a charming sort of way. She doesn't let herself look at any of the paintings or photos in particular though, more focused on getting the potatoes to the table so she can return to Hop and his date. 

The entire situation dreams midwestern hospitality and while that thought normally made El sick to her stomach, she doesn't mind it here. 

Once she’s set the potatoes on the table, she turns to head back towards the front door to see that Hop, Joyce, and a new guy- probably one of Joyce’s sons- have settled down in the living room, probably waiting for Joyce’s other son. 

El lets herself flop down into a cushy armchair, smoothing her skirt with her fingertips as her yellow cardigan brushed against the palms of her hands. 

Joyce is laughing at something Hopper said when she notices El sitting with them, her eyes widening. “Oh, shit, sorry, I got distracted. This is Jonathan.” 

El tried to ignore the way Joyce swore- she wasn't bothered by it, quite the opposite, but when it came from such a sweet woman it seemed as if she was speaking Japanese- and turned to the boy sitting down next to her on the sofa. 

His eyes were sunken and grey, but not in a bad way, more like a nicely worn jacket and how it sometimes gets rough around the edges. Still nice, just aged. His hair is a mousy brown, one that is so similar to Will’s hair that she has to blink a few times before moving on. His nose is narrow, a lot like Joyces in that kind of soft and endearing way, sloping gently outwards. He's wearing dark grey slacks and a light grey button-up shirt, and El lets out a breath of relief at the fact that she wasn't the only one of the kids who dressed formally. He seems like the tortured artist type, the kind who only draws with charcoal and takes only black and white photos while listening to a mixtape of alternative rock.

“Hey. you're Jane right?” His smile is wide and his voice is raspy, like an old record player’s static. 

“Yeah, that would be me. But most people call me El.” 

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Is that your middle name or just a nickname?”

Hopper tensed in his seat across from El, giving her a look that said, ‘you can tell them if you want, but don't make me explain’. El sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. 

_ “Eleven, you do have a real name, I swear you do. It just isn't the time yet.”  _

_ “When will it be time?”  _

_ Kali frowned. “I wish I knew.” _

El sighed. She wishes she were brave enough to say that, but she just… isn't. Not yet. Not after the scare with her cardigan today. She let her eyes drift up to meet the older boys. “It’s- it’s just a nickname.”

Jhonathan nodded, hair bouncing in strands around his face, eyes filled with fascination. "Does it stand for anything?”

El swallowed and let her eyes drop to her feet once again, trying to keep her composure as the room started closing in. 

She felt so small. So small and empty and insignificant. Because deep, deep down, she still believed that all she was, was a product that had to sell. A number instead of a name, forced into tight-fitting clothes at nine years old, the only bit of stability left was her sister, and she was barely ever around. Back then, she hadn't known what it would mean to be ‘sold’. She knew that was what papa did. Sell people- young people- for a lot of money. Money he spent only on himself. She hadn't known it was illegal, and she hadn’t known what would happen if she was sold. But she had hoped because when she saw old men walk in, in business suits, pockets full of cash as they brushed her cheek and then moved on, she thought that maybe life wouldn't be as bad at their hands.

Now, sitting in the living room of the kindest woman she barely knew, it felt like sitting in the police station at twelve years old, being told what kind of business papa did in that house. How she could've been dead by now. How Kali probably already was. 

She felt kind of sick, because what if she had been sold? She never would've known. Fuck, none of those kids would’ve known, Kali was the oldest one there, and she seemed the be the only one who truly did know. She was fucking seventeen, she had her whole life ahead of her. 

Why the fuck would she risk it for El? 

Suddenly a warm hand was on her shoulder, large and firm, rubbing gentle circles as she snapped back, opening her eyes and blinking through the haze of the past. 

“Hey, kiddo, we’re gonna move into the dining room. Join us when you're feeling better, okay?”

El nodded, only vaguely raising her head to look at the old grandfather clock in the corner. She had lost ten minutes, to a memory.

Well, no, it wasn't a memory. More like… 

_ Jane, you have to realize that when you're having these… memories, they aren't just memories, they're episodes. You can't control them, you just have to learn to manage them. Take deep breaths, count to five, just like you would do with a panic attack. You have to bring yourself back to the present. You have to realize that none of it is real. _

Maybe she should call Helen. See if she can schedule a few appointments before going back home. She did have some extra cash laying around, Hop would probably pitch in. 

“Hey, guys I'm rea-”

El looked up towards the dimly lit hallway, eyes glazed over as she tried not to scream at whoever just walked in.

But when her eyes found a familiar face, her brain screeched to a halt.

“Will?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, for that one commenter last chapter, about where the girls will be living for now... I'm sorry. :'( 
> 
> secondly, here's what goes down at the Byers house. 
> 
> Basically, El and Hopper show up and El takes an instant liking to Joyce because she's Joyce and every sane person loves Joyce. even though El's not sane, but same difference. they get to talking and Jonathan shows up and is introduced to El, he asks what her nickname stands for and she has some flashbacks to when she was in Papa's care, mainly about how Kali died and what could've happened to her, which I am leaving somewhat vague, but I've updated the tags, so you probably know. The others continue talking and eventually leave, Hopper gives El some comfort to make sure she's ok and then tells her to join them when she's ready. she somewhat talks herself down, and then Will walks in. 
> 
> ok, now its time for my unnecessary commentary.
> 
> did you know how much fun it was to write Lucas? it was so fun HOLY SHIT. I wasn't planning on this being a Mucas (hahaha fuck you, Lumax) chapter, but once I started writing them I just could. not. stop. this chapter was just, a treat. 
> 
> also, when i mention Midwestern hospitality, i mean Midwestern hospitality. like, i remember being nine years old and my mom handing me a container of food to take into my aunt's kitchen so she could keep talking, and then me, sprinting down the hall so i could get back to her and hide from my cousins. Because I've lived my entire life with a crazy democratic suburban family and I have a lot of things to say about it!! 
> 
> anyyyywayssss, I've decided I'm gonna leave you guys a song after each chapter that'll clue you into what's gonna go down in the next one. call it a game, call it my way of spoiling the plot, whatever. 
> 
> The next chapter's song is Sure Thing, Shelly by Macseal. you can find the song on the JAR playlist I linked last chapter or just look it up wherever. 
> 
> Love you and see you soon! comments are loved and appreciated!


	15. Honestly, Who Really Knows What They Want Anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, basically, its a wheeler holiday.
> 
> Nancy is omnipotent on everything except Jonathan which is cute and I love it, and Mike has a hero complex, and it's kind of NOT OKAY. 
> 
> anyways, you guys know me, I'm just gonna prattle on about the rest of everything in the end notes so. 
> 
> yeah.
> 
> enjoy!

_ "Mike Wheeler?"  _

_ Mike stood from his seat in the waiting room, walking past a nurse with a clipboard as he made his way back to his therapist's office.  _

_ The door felt cold, like glass when you fill it with ice or the winter breeze, but the room he opened the door to was warm, inviting.  _

_ "Why don't you take a seat, Mike."  _

_ Mike absently went to the couch, eyes going to his feet as he counted the dots on the carpet. 98, 99…  _

_ "Ok, let's start with a simple question, how are you feeling?"  _

_ Mike shrugs. "Fine."  _

_ He hears a pen writing a few things before a few papers shuffle, and her next question comes out of her mouth as if it's nothing.  _

_ "Why are you in love with me?"  _

_ Mike looks up and catches sight of El, thin glasses perched on her nose as she avoids eye contact with him. She still has the hickey he gave her from earlier. He's quite proud of it.  _

_ "Do you have to ask that? You're my therapist, shouldn't you be all up in my head?"  _

_ El scribbles down a few notes before crossing one of her legs over the other. Mike tries to ignore the way the room gets warmer.  _

_ "I am in your head. I've always been in your head. You put me here. You can make me leave." _

_ Mike shook his head. "You know I can't do that."  _

_ El dropped the therapist act, finally, tossing her clipboard aside as she crossed her arms and glared at him. "And why is that?" _

_ "Because I'm-" Mike shuddered. He can't say that out loud. Because then it would be real, then it would be true.  _

_ More true than it already was. _

_ El scoffed. "Honestly, you barely even know me. I don't get how this even happened."  _

_ Mike laughed. "What? So seventh grade didn't mean anything to you?"  _

_ El shook her head. "I never said that. What I said was that you don't know me."  _

_ Mike swallowed as her eyes began to go hazy. Their appointment was ending soon.  _

_ "I used to know you."  _

And then his alarm went off. 

"Mike! I told you to make the volume on that thing lower!" 

Mike grumbled and rolled over in his sleep, seeing a frustrated seven- "seven and three-quarters, Mikey!"- year-old, hands still clutching onto her favorite stuffed rabbit. 

"Sorry, Hols." Mike slapped his hand down onto his alarm, silencing the deafening sound as he forced himself upwards and grabbed a shirt from the floor, pulling it on over his mess of hair. "What about breakfast to make up for it?" 

Holly grimaces at Mike as he pulls on a day old shirt, but the second food is mentioned her face is beaming. "Yeah! French Toast!" 

Mike rolls his eyes as he gently pushes Holly down the stairs, making her giggle loudly. "Go ahead and get the toast, eggs, milk, and butter ready." 

She just bounces down the stairs without a care in the world, freshly brushed pigtails swaying with each step. 

Mike remembers being that young. Sometimes he'd rather forget all the screaming that he had to endure as he tossed and turned at night, but other than that, his life was pretty good back then. 

_ Maybe it's because back then, you didn't have a girl that made your brain melt.  _

_ Speaking of…  _

When were he and El gonna meet up again? Were they gonna meet up again? 

It's as if he can still feel her lips on his, soft and persistent in a way he never even let himself imagine.

Well, he didn't let it happen, but being a teenager with a crush on the hottest girl in school is… a lot.

_ Especially when she gives you glances over her shoulder in the hallways. Like we were a thing. Like we were keeping a secret. A  _ dirty _ secre _ -

_ Stop it! You kissed once! This is gross, you're acting like a fucking middle schooler! _

Mike let his thoughts flit through his head as he makes his way down the hall, counting the photos on the wall as he passes. 

What even were they now? Friends didn't feel right. Dating didn't feel right either. They weren't just hooking up, they talked to each other regularly. Were they lovers, like, waiting to date, or were they just friends with benefits?

For some odd reason, he hopes it's the latter. 

Mike lets his feet stop after the fifteenth picture, hand coming up to rap gently against the white door he's grown up being afraid of. 

"Mom? Hey, are you up? Do you need aspirin today?" 

_ 'Are you hungover today?' _

There was a grumble on the other side of the door and Mike sighed.  _ Just a few more days, _ he told himself,  _ she'll get over it again. _

So he slumped back towards the hallway bathroom, rubbing the crust from his eyes as he reached for the aspirin. He took four pills. Two for him, two for mom. 

After all, sometimes having a bad dream is more painful than any kind of headache you can imagine.

Mike hated what his family had become. Don't get him wrong! He loved his family, it just… 

_ Wasn't a whole.  _

Nowadays, dad only comes home to give them checks so we can keep his mistress a secret. Mom drinks wine until she passes out every day. Holly sometimes has to cook her own meals. 

Nancy had offered up her apartment in New York to the shorter blonde the second she got it, and Mike always sent her any spare cash he could for her groceries. They talked over the phone all the time, mainly when it was late and mom was too drunk to remember Holly being up past her bedtime. A bedtime that was never really enforced. 

It wasn't this bad when Mike lived with them, mainly because he hid the wine and cashed the checks for his mom. He knew she was depressed, it just sometimes seemed like she didn't know she was, despite all the pills and the constant fatigue, she somehow still convinced herself things were fine.

They stopped being fine once the only other person in the house couldn't reach the wine cabinet. 

The funny part about all of this was, despite his mom being one of the smartest women he knew, she never noticed how dad didn't care. 

How submissive had she been? How lenient? How patient? 

How did she do it?

Why did she do it?

Mike pushed the jar of pills back into the cabinet before throwing his head back, swallowing the two in his left hand, and cupping his hands under the sink to get some water. 

Looking into his reflection, he can feel the back of his mind asking a question. It's fuzzy, but it's not worth worrying about, just a passing thought. Nothing more. 

There were mothers to fix and breakfasts to make. Thoughts could wait.

So he closed the medicine cabinet and walked away, and a low murmur following him, one that slipped away just as the memories of his dream did. That same terrifyingly sweet voice that made him fall over and over without an ounce of reason. 

A voice that asked: "How do you do it, Mike?"

* * *

Flying in from New York on the night before Christmas eve is lonely. 

Especially when your boyfriend left a few days earlier, leaving the king-sized bed halfway empty and all the way cold. 

But really, she understands. Family is family. 

Even though, somehow, your girlfriend of three years isn't family. Whatever that means.

So when Nancy boards the plane from New York to Indiana, even though the plane is full, her heart is empty. 

Getting off the plane is even more lonely, mainly because every other passenger on her plane has a family waiting for them, signs in bright red marker, and arms wide open. But she mainly has to blame that on herself. 

She didn't even call last night to tell Mike she'd be there today, and she knows Mom isn't gonna drive all the way up to Indianapolis for her. 

Not like she would make it. Probably would have passed out over the steering wheel. 

So she uses the taxi service and pays for the hour-long ride down to Hawkins. You would think to work for the biggest newspaper in the U.S. you would get paid like crazy, but journalism is a cutthroat business, and just because you come free with a photographer, doesn't mean they can't replace you. So she uses the entirety of her last paycheck to pay the fare and steps out in front of her old house, dark blue paint faded, white siding covered in algae from all the rain, and the roof crystalized with sleet. 

She checks her watch. It's eight-fifty, Mike and Holly are probably awake, Mom's probably a zombie, the cousins probably aren't coming for dinner this year. It's just as shitty as she left it after Thanksgiving. 

She tries looking for her keys as she walks up to the door, but when a blonde streak passes in the window, Nancy knows that she doesn't need to open it herself. 

"NANNY!" The blonde bursts out the door when Nancy's still only a few feet up the driveway. The steam from the taxi's tailpipe is still floating up into the air, and Holly has already tackled her to the ground, suitcase flying as her body slides around on the slick driveway. 

"Holly, I told you that nickname was dumb." She twirls one of the girl's pigtails, trying to ignore just how cold the ground is. 

Holly ignores her and nuzzles into her neck, letting out rapid breaths as she tries to catch her breath. "I missed you so, so much! Mike's so stupid-" 

A lower voice interrupts them, frantic and angry. "HOLLY! BE CAREFUL! YOU KNOW HOW SLICK THE GROUND IS RIGHT NOW!" 

Nancy forces herself up onto her elbows, seeing Mike, red in the face with a spatula clutched in his hand. Nancy wraps and arm around Holly, pulling her up as she uses her suitcase to stand up. Holly doesn't let go, instead, she wraps herself around Nancy's torso, arms holding a death grip on her ribcage that she's sure is gonna bruise later. 

"Hey, loser." Nancy starts walking up the driveway, trying to stabilize Holly with both arms as she walks up the steps. "Get my bag, why don't you? I had a long trip, and this one is not going to release for at least the next twenty minutes." 

Holly shakes her head and Nancy stops next to Mike, quizzically glancing down at the blonde clinging to her. "What? You're gonna let go after ten?" 

Holly shakes her head more frantically. A muffled "No, thirty" coming from the material of her pea coat. 

Nancy looks up and smiles. "You heard the girl, go-" 

Wait. 

Nancy smiles devilishly, eyes trained on Mike's neck. 

"Who's the girl?" 

Mike's eyes widen and he takes a step back, legs hitting the iron handrail by the concrete steps. "What are you-" 

Nancy laughs and she feels Holly shift her grip, linking her feet behind her knees. Yeah, she needs to get inside, asap. 

"You really should look in the mirror, little brother. Bruises like those aren't exactly easily explained." She grunts as Holly buries herself deeper in her chest, and finally, Nancy walks into the heat of her old home. "Ok, ok! Give me a second Hols!" 

She hates admitting it, but she missed this. Her siblings. Journalism is fun and all, but these idiots are so much more fun than the story about littering she just drafted. 

So as she plops down on the couch, hands easily finding the remote to the tv. She realizes that she isn't upset over all the terrible memories she has in these walls, she's grateful for the people it raised. 

* * *

Mike, seriously, if you don't tell me I'm gonna take your phone and just start calling random numbers."

Mike groans. "I don't even have her number! I told you, we aren't friends! At least, I don't think we are?" He bites his lip, looking at his feet. Adventure time plays quietly on the tv, an enchanted Holly gazing at the vivid colors as Finn and Jake explore Ooo, Nancy and Mike sit back and chat instead, happy for a break. 

"Jesus Christ Mike, I know college is a time for exploration but you can't just hook up with any random chick, what if she had like, herpes, or something?" 

Mike throws his head back. "For the last time, we didn't  _ actually _ do it! We just kind of-" 

Nancy snickers. "Necked each other?" Her eyes drift to what Mike now knows as a bright purple bruise on the right side of his neck, just below his ear. 

Mike swallows his pride and nods, sending Nancy into a round of laughter and Holly into a fit about how they're being too loud. 

When the noise dies down Nancy is turning to him again. "Well, can you tell me anything about this girl? I mean, she isn't like, a confidential government employee or something right?" 

Mike shakes his head and decides not to linger on the idea of El in a business suit. "No, I can tell you about her, just uh- what do you wanna know?"

Nancy taps her chin as she silently considers what to ask before her eyes light up and her hair bounces happily. "How long have you known her?" 

Mike swallows and blushes before running his tongue over his dry lips. "Uh, I think seven years now?"

Nancy's eyebrows shoot up. "What?! You've had a secret girlfriend since middle school? How the fuck did-" then her face softens into a look of confusion. "Wait… weren't you like, in love with that one girl back in middle school? The one that always hung out with your nerd friends?" 

Mike feels his face bloom into a bright red, eyes bulging out of his skull as panic flies through him. "What! No! No, I was never in love with her!" 

Nancy frowns and glances over to Holly, probably making sure she's distracted before tilting her head in concern, eyes boring into Mike. "Hey, you don't have to tell me if it's her or not, I don't care who it is. I just care that you're being treated right." Her hand comes up to grasp his, pulling his hand from his knee to clasp it between both of her hands. It's kind of reassuring, in a way that the old Nancy never could be. 

Mike sighs and looks down at his feet, pushing away thoughts of 'she'll think you're weird' or 'she's gonna tell mom' because that's the old Nancy, the one who made his curfew nine pm, not the one with a steady job and a nice boyfriend. So he lets out a shallow breath and just lets his mouth run. 

"You know, I've been in love with her for almost as long as I can remember. I've wanted to kiss her lips since I met her. Yet, now that it's happened, it feels weird. Like, it's not really her. I don't know, maybe I'm being stupid." He drops his head and looks over at Holly, bouncing in place as Finn points his sword at the ice king. He should watch this show, it looks awesome. 

Nancy moves one of her hands to his shoulder, making him jolt and turn to her, eyes wide as a gentle, knowing smile spreading on her face. "Have you ever considered that you're not hung up on who she is now, but who she was back then?" 

Mike sighs and leans back, eyes glued to the ceiling as he lets her words sink in. It doesn't sound off, I mean, he is in love with El, he's known that since he was twelve. But when he thinks about El now, the one who admitted to sleeping with Troye out loud, in front of four other people, it just doesn't feel like  _ her _ . Then his mind flashes to times like watching her fill up her ice bucket or stealing glances at her at the diner, it feels like she hasn't changed. 

Sometimes he wonders if she's the confused one. 

Mike simply nods at his sister, in a way that says, 'yeah, I'm done talking about it.' Before he shoots El a quick text. 

He hopes this whole thing doesn't backfire.

* * *

"If it's Max don't let her in," El mutters over her shoulder tersely as a knock rebounds throughout the house. Her spot on the sofa is comfy, watching  _ Romy and Michele's High School Reunion,  _ and no, it's not because it was one of Max's favorite movies, and no, it's not because the prom scene makes her feel less stupid. 

_ So don't even ask, dad! _

Max came and took her stuff. El wants to say she was expecting it, the whole drop and ditch a friend thing, but honestly, she's fine with it being mutual if it's a war she wants. El stands by what she said. They only went there for the cardigan, not the drama. But I guess fuck her for wanting something she had control over in her life.

El had told her dad when she found the guest room barren. She doesn't like admitting this, but a small part of her was hoping for more than just a note that said 'get over yourself.' 

She hadn't cried. Nope, not at all. She didn't run out sobbing into dad's arms and she didn't get snot all over his dress shirt, and she didn't break one of her heels as she angrily pulled them off. And even if she had, she would never, ever admit it. 

It's definitely  _ not _ a pride thing. 

Dad grumbled as he shuffled over to the door, probably something about 'stupid teenage hormones' which had been the self-proclaimed bane of his existence for these past six years. 

But when the door opens, dad smiles. He genuinely smiles and at first, El is kind of scared. Dad only smiles when he's nervous or around a girl he likes, so whatever is behind that door is either a major inconvenience, or it's Joyce. 

And if she's telling by the way he isn't straightening his clothes at all, he's nervous. 

"Uh, yeah, I'll tell her." Dad turns to El, a sympathetic smile on his face as he raises his eyebrows. "You've got an uh- a friend here to see you." 

El scrunches her nose. Who the fuck is showing up at the house on Christmas eve at like, nine AM? Isn't it supposed to be like, a sin to do anything other than be selfish today? 

El heaves herself up and looks on the bright side. Best case scenario, it's Mike, and they can make out in his car. Then the clouds swoop back in, because worst-case scenario, it's Max, and she's gonna carve El's heart out and sell it on eBay for less than a dollar. 

But when she steps up to see Will standing on her doorstep, her whole being is filled with an impartial feeling. 

Dinner last night was… quiet, to say the least. Sure, Joyce and Hop and Jonathan seemed to have an amazing time, but Will and El had practically gone brain-dead the entire night. They were unresponsive, having silent competitions to see who could eat the least food and then push it around listlessly on their plates, like angry toddlers who refused to apologize to each other. 

So seeing him standing awkwardly on her doorstep is… 

Odd. 

"Hey." He says, a hand coming up to brush against his face, almost anxiously. "You got a minute?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like now that it's getting warmer my inspiration is kind of melting. like, be cold goddammit!! this chapter took FOREVER but that might be because I'm taking drivers ed right now, and I'm testing for my license soon, wish me luck!!!
> 
> the world is crazy right now, so im kind of struggling not to panic while also doing my best to study and support all these important BLM things, because theyre REALLY IMPORTANT!!! please, do anything you can, donate if its possible, sign petitions, its a big deal! this is like, one of the only places I have a platform to speak on, so it's important that I at least try to spread a good message! 
> 
> this chapter isn't that good, but I had to like, show the role that Nancy will take while also trying to clarify why Mike always feels so responsible for everything and shit. don't worry, we aren't gonna just skip over the dinner, you're gonna hear about it. hehehehe.
> 
> i want orange juice but I have to sleep because I have class tmrw so I gotta do the sleep!! no juice for meeee!!!!
> 
> please comment with any critiques or other things, whatever pleases you.
> 
> Next chapters song is Freshman Year by Small Crush


	16. I Wish That I Knew Then What I Know Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i actually like this chapter. 
> 
> i don't know why. i don't know how. but I did a good thing. 
> 
> well, this is by far the most vulgar chapter I've written so far. kid of feel like rubbing my face with a bar of soap after implying such lesbianism with my girl Max, but what can I say. i know what I like and what i like is bisexual Max. 
> 
> its so fluffy though... like some of the dialogue is just so fun and I love it. 
> 
> bridges are being crossed, pasts are being accepted. 
> 
> all around, we are improving. slowly, but we are getting there!
> 
> onwards!!!

Honestly, El would much rather ignore Will. You know, after learning that while she was sleeping with Troye- consensually or not- Will was there just as often, getting fucked just as hard. 

She probably should've found that gross, or disturbing or just off-putting, but  _ no _ . She just had to be all sympathetic. 

Honestly, she wishes she could just put all of her feelings in a box and burn them. Because when they weren't causing her pain, they were confusing her, and neither of those was preferred to the numbness she craved. 

But her brain loved to cling to the small things. 

The way they would share carrots at lunch. The way he would ask her if she was ok after a particularly long stretch of silence. The way he would make sure her sleeping bag was next to Mike's. 

He was a good person. No matter how much she hoped her actions were justified, they weren't. 

She left them. All four of them. 

Dustin, with his crooked smiles and corny jokes, trying to prove that he was worth keeping around for his humor. Trying to make up for his insecurities by avoiding them, dodging each problem with a witty remark. 

Lucas, with his kind-hearted stubbornness. Always the one to jump to the defense, ready to give himself away for his friends. He never knew how much that scared them. How much they desperately wanted to keep him safe. 

Mike, with his blushing cheeks and unbreaking loyalty. He always thought he was a burden, a kind of damper on the fun. But no matter what he was always there with them, playing whatever PS2 game they could find.

And Will. 

The broken boy who was scared of opening up. The one who constantly walked on eggshells. He only ever smiled with his friends. He only ever talked about what he liked in the safety of his best friend's basement. 

And even then, he still kept certain things- certain people- a secret. 

Seeing Mike for the first time after high school was tough. But now, after learning about Will… 

God, seeing him just standing there, on their front steps- it felt like a stab in the chest. 

Hop made some excuse about going out to get ice, even though they don't use ice. He probably just wanted to leave them alone. 

_ I wouldn't blame him. It seems like every time Will and I so much as look at each other the air gets heavy _ .

So when the door finally snaps shut and the beat-up police cruiser has left to head down the dirt road, it's quiet. 

Will speaks first, of course. He came here. He's the one who wanted to talk. 

"I heard about you and Mike." 

El blinked. Once, twice, three times before turning to the boy sitting next to her, a small smile teasing the edges of his lips. 

She tried to swallow but her mouth was full of cotton. It was one kiss. One heat of the moment kiss from a boy who deserved so, so much better than her. A boy who deserved the world.

She barely recognized her voice when it squeaked out a feeble question, bordering on the edge of weak and insecure feelings she didn't want to think about. "Who told you?" 

Will glanced over to her, and their eyes met for what was probably the first time in seven years. Dark brown and amber reflecting the same kind of pained understanding that seemed to flow through them whenever they were near. 

He smiled a real smile. One that El had been missing for the past seven years. Sometimes she wondered what else she missed. Could Dustin still do that shoulder thing? 

"Lucas called me after getting off the phone with Mike earlier. He said Max told him last night and he had called Mike to congratulate him." 

_ Last night? Max was with Lucas last night? _

"He said that Max seemed pretty meh about it all, but you guys did kind of blow up at each other yesterday."

_ Is that where she's staying? With Lucas?  _

"I just wanted to stop by and make sure that you were happy. That you were doing this for the right reasons."

_ Are they a thing now, too? _

"You know, Mike deserves to be so much more than just a rebound." 

El froze, thoughts screeching to a halt as her eyes came back into focus, finding a worried boy, picking at his fingers as he soaked up the silence. 

"What?" 

Will jumped. Apparently, she had waited too long to answer and when she finally did, he didn't expect it. 

"Well, I'm just worried that after all this stuff with Troye, you'd-"

"No!" El snapped, her voice rising as her hands clenched in disgust. 

Will cowered back a bit, nearly jumping in place, hand coming up to place his hand on his chest, trying to force air into his lungs. 

And of course, El felt awful for snapping at him. Sure, today is probably the most stressful day she's had since sophomore year, but that's no reason to scare him into submission like some kind of boss barking orders. 

She is  _ not _ a cheerleader anymore. She  _ isn't _ like that anymore. She  _ has _ to change. And she has to change  _ soon _ . 

"Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped, I just-"

Will shook his head, hands coming up in the air. "No, no I get it." He shrugs as his hands fall to his sides. "I mean I shouldn't have assumed your feelings like that." He pauses, thinking. "Maybe you've been in love with Mike this whole time. I don't know."

El finally swallows, hard. It feels like swallowing shards of glass, cutting deep into her from within in a way that only Max and Hop had ever been capable of. 

But now there was Will. And maybe, just maybe she could trust him. 

So she took one final steadying breath before she spoke, words weaving pictures and painting feelings. She told him about Mike. She told him about the house in Manhattan. She told him about Max. She told him everything she felt like sharing, her words melting together to form a story. Her story. 

A story that she might finally be coming to accept. 

* * *

"So, what's the plan?" 

Max turned to Dustin, eyebrows creasing as she took another bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "What plan?" 

Dustin frowned and shot Lucas a glance over the kitchen counter, as if to say, 'is she seriously this stupid?'. 

"The plan to get El back. She's your best friend, and probably Mike's girlfriend by now." His focus shifts back over to Lucas. "Are you sure you aren't lying to me, because how the fuck did Wheeler end up with her?" 

Lucas groans and runs a hand over his face before slapping it onto the counter, nearly hitting the hand Max had resting to his left. "Dude, why would I be lying about that?" 

"To make fun of me for being the only one of us to never have a girlfriend." He paused, looking to the counter in silent consideration. "Or, I guess boyfriend in Will's case. By the way, is he okay? He told me he had a nasty breakup yesterday." 

Lucas's face scrunched. "Wait- Will had a boyfriend? Since when?" 

Dustin gaped slightly, confusion filling his features. "Yeah. I thought you knew? After all, I always tend to be the one who's left out of the loop." 

Lucas guffawed. "Since when!?"

Max clears her throat loudly, interrupting their conversation with an annoyed glare as she finishes up her sandwich, sliding the plate back across the counter. “Are we here just to catch up, or?”

Lucas groans and turns to Dustin with a kind glance. “You said you slept with Jenny a few weeks ago right?”

Max’s head falls to the countertop. “Oh, my god.” she lifts her head and glares at Lucas. “Why are you asking him? Didn’t everyone sleep with Jenny at some point?”

Dustin’s face contorts into a mischievous smirk, eyebrows rising comically. “What, did you fuck her too?”

Max isn't phased and simply keeps staring at the countertop as she responds. “I said everyone, does everyone not include me?”

There's a long stretch of silence and Max eventually looks up to see both boys frozen in place, eyes wide and glued to her, as if urging her to explain.

“What?” she says, eyebrows furrowing as the air grows thick.

Lucas coughs and just like that the two boys go right back to normal. “Nothing, nothing.” he runs a hand through his hair and pointedly avoids Max’s glance, eyes tunneling as he looks to Dustin. “I’m asking because I deleted her number after the break-up.”

Dustin pauses before bursting into laughter, throwing his head back as chuckles travel through him, desperately trying to get his words out between breaths. “You- seriously-” he lets out a ‘whoop’ before running into a new round of giggles. “Were you really- that hurt- I thought you- didn't care?” he pauses, holding his breath as he whips back up, trying to refrain from laughing anymore, only to deflate like a balloon as he meets Lucas’s eyes. 

Max giggles into her hand, trying to hide the fact that she also finds the idea of Lucas being a heartbroken dope hopelessly hilarious and adorable.

Lucas looks between the two of them, eyes slanted in anger. “Yes! Ok! I kind of cared about her! So what!?” he huffs and crosses his arms, turning to stare at the kitchen wall. “Can you get me her number or not?” 

Dustin finally catches his breath, chuckles trailing off as he gestures behind him with his thumb. “Yeah, just- hold on.” he leans onto the counter, head coming to rest between his hands as he fights off the last of his laughter. After about thirty seconds, he stands up, a look of determination on his face. “I, the noble Dustin, will find the code you seek!” he turns around dramatically, marching away like a soldier, hand coming up to hold up his index finger to the ceiling as if he is proving a point. “By getting my phone!” 

Max smothers her laughter in her hands- no way is she going to let her laughter get to Dustin's head- just as Lucas shouts after him, “This isn’t D&D, you aren’t a fucking hero!”

Max rolls her eyes and lets her laughter die off, removing her hand from her mouth to run it through her hair. She forgot to bring a brush back from campus, she had planned on using El’s the whole time, so her hair is a tangled mess that's straining against the ponytail she put it in, red streaks desperately fighting to be freed.

Lucas smiles down at her, trying not to let himself become too softened by how at peace she looks. She's always fascinated him, but now that he actually knows her, she’s better than he ever could have imagined. 

He clears his throat and Max’s eyes jump to him, a smile still lingering on her lips.

“So… you and Jenny?” 

Max shrugs and lets a more teasing smirk take over her features. “All the guys on the football team said she had a talented mouth. Wanted to see if that applied to girls too.” 

Lucas’s eyebrows raise. “Well?” 

Max brings a hand up to her chin, resting her elbow on the counter and looking over to him. “Well, it wasn't a lie. You would know.” 

_ Oh, he did know. _

“But, it never happened again. You know, relationship drama and all that.” she glares at him pointedly before turning away, red strands chasing after her head. 

Lucas feels heat rise to his cheeks, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Max, you know I’m-”

“MISSION! SUCCESS!” a voice booms from the doorway and there Dustin is, holding up his Nokia as if it is some kind of weapon, high above his head with his stance wide. 

Lucas chuckles good-naturedly and crosses his arms. “Why am I friends with you again?” 

Dustin smiles widely as he runs up to the counter, flipping his phone open to scroll through his contacts, little beeps following each button. “Because you _ looove _ me.” 

Lucas groans and opens his phone, pulling up his contacts and preparing to type in a new number. “I admit to nothing.” 

* * *

“Hey, Mike! Sorry I just got your text now. I've been kinda busy over here.” 

_ “It's ok. Hey, are you free today? I wanted to go get lunch with someone but nobody likes me so…”  _

“Are you asking me out on a date, Micheal Wheeler?” 

_ “What? Pffffft. No! I'd have to actually like you to do that! And everyone knows we’re just bros.”  _

“Yeah. Bros who makeout in the middle of a forest with only your cheap-ass car heater to keep us warm.” 

_ “True that. So, you busy?”  _

“I am.” 

_ “Oh. Sorry, I'll just hang up-”  _

“I have a date with one Micheal Wheeler. You know him?”

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Mike seems to catch on, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

_ “God, that nerd? Jeez. What a loser. He's awful.” _

El giggles into the phone. “The worst.”

_ “Hey, where did the loser say he was taking you?”  _

“Mmmmmm… well, I think he mentioned something about brunch…” 

There's a stifled groan before his voice replies.  _ “I hope you know just how much I like you.” _

El smiles. “Well, I do now.” 

_ “Meet me there in thirty?”  _

“Gotcha.” 

_ “Ok. Uh- bye.”  _

“Bye.” 

She pressed the red button on her phone, trying to ignore the pangs of insecurity trying to keep her glued in place like a goddamn statue. 

_ Why am I being so fucking mean to myself? I know that Max isn’t here to rag on me anymore, but fuck! _

“Mikey, I presume?” Will is standing in her bedroom’s doorway, leaning against the rotting door frame as El stands up from her position on her bed. 

“How’d you know?” 

Will grins. “You were all,” he raises a hand to his forehead and lets his weight fall back onto the doorframe, causing a quiet creak. “‘oh, Mike, please come sweep me off my feet and do the awful cliche of taking me on a brunch date!’ it was disgusting.” he stands back up fully, hands going to his jacket pockets as he bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, you probably don’t want me around while you're getting dressed for this so I'll just let myself out.” 

El watches as he stumbles back into the living room, and she almost doesn't follow him. She nearly forgets that she’s working to be a better person. She nearly forgets to stop him. 

“Hey! You didn't get my number!” she snatches a pen off of her nightstand, running out into the living room and grabbing a stiff arm before writing out her number, adding a little ‘xoxo’ at the end, just to annoy him. 

Will rolls his eyes when she finally pulls away, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he steps out the front door. “You're such a bitch,” he says light-heartedly, eyes kind and teasing. 

She smiles as she comes to stand between the snow-covered forest and the warm cabin, hand bracing itself against the door. “Oh, I know!” 

He smiles and opens his car door, throwing her one last glance. 

“Don't choke!” 

El laughs as he drives off, her mind coming to recall a particular conversation from dinner last night. 

_ “So, El. do you have anyone special that you're seeing?” Joyce’s voice is soft and sweet as El pokes at her peas, eyes only lifting slightly from her plate.  _

_ “Why do you ask?” she replies. She isn't just gonna outright tell them she might possibly be involved with Mike Wheeler, which is no doubt, a name Joyce will recognize. She reaches for her water glass, taking a long sip to try and silence her thoughts. _

_ Jonathan cuts in, eyes not leaving his pot roast as he stabs another piece. “You have a hickey.”  _

_ El coughs up her drink, immediately reaching for her napkin as she blushes bright red.  _

_ “Jonathan!” Joyce hurries to grab her napkin as well, reaching across the table to wipe up some of the water she accidentally spit-up. Her eyes Meet El’s watery ones, apologetic in her tone, she reaches and hands her the water again, eyes steady. “Don't choke, sweetie!”  _

She reminds herself that she probably should get a better concealer. 

* * *

“Did you want to come to brunch just so you could get a waffle?” Mike smiles at her from across the table, his plate of eggs and fries steaming lightly. 

“Bite me, Wheeler.” she snarks around a mouthful of food, her fork still working on breaking up her plate. 

He flushes slightly and laughs as a smirk dances across his face. “Is that an offer?” 

She kicks him under the table. 

The place they ended up going to was one of those ‘The Original Pancake House’ places. The very same chain that Cady gets a coupon for because she was spring fling queen. Also, what is up with El’s obsession over Mean Girls lately? 

So far, things are going better than she thought. 

Mike talked about working at the diner, El talked about how much she loved their waffles. Mike said that Nancy was back in town, El mentioned the time Nancy made her waffles. Mike mentioned a pothole he almost hit on the way here, El kept talking about waffles. 

_ There might be a theme to this… _

But mainly, what El was noticing, was how different Mike was from Troye. 

He opened the door for her when they walked in, Troye always just let the door slam in her face. Mike asked her what she wanted to drink, Troye always just got her apple juice, which, ew. Mike talked to her while they waited for their food, he didn't text people on his phone the whole time, like Troye. 

He actually, genuinely seemed to care. 

Something Troye never did.

And then that dangerous thought shot through her brain, like a traitorous rogue who jumped out of line. 

The thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't just doing this to get in her pants.

Although, she really, really would not mind if that was a part of his plan. 

“So, have you and Max talked at all since yesterday?” 

El swallowed another bite as she looked up at him. He was just… so pretty. The way the huge storefront window backlit him almost made her think he was glowing. Sure, boys were not generally thought of as pretty- fragile masculinity and all that- but Mike just kind of was. He had long eyelashes that were unusually thick for a guy, and little freckles danced across his nose and cheeks as if they were part of some kind of elaborate dance recital. And every time he laughed it was as if she was listening to a song from her childhood that she just could not remember the lyrics to. 

“No. yesterday was kind of our first big fight in…” she looked into Mike's eyes, letting herself recall before she focused back into the conversation. “Ever.” 

Mike frowned in confusion, stabbing a piece of his eggs as he looked at her confusedly. “I thought you guys were staying together?” 

El nods. “We were,” she says bitterly. “She picked up her stuff last night. Didn't even get to say goodbye.”

Mike whistles lowly. “Jeez. That's fucked. Going back to campus is gonna suck.” 

El freezes, her fork in her mouth as her mind mentally facepalms. 

How the fuck did she not think of that until now? What was she gonna do when the New Year was here and she had to drive back to Chicago? Who was gonna drive her? Where was she going to sleep? 

“Wait, you did make plans for when you get back right?” Mike looked at her nervously. 

El pulled the fork away from her mouth and dropped it onto her plate, hands coming up to run through her hair. “Fuck.” 

No way is she gonna be able to pay rent alone. This was it. No more future, no more social work, no more psych classes. She may as well start applying for jobs at the nearest Walmart. 

Mike watched her nervously for a few seconds, a silent question forming in his mind. Should he ask? Would that be overstepping or something? Was it too soon?

But before he could stop himself, he was speaking. “If you need a place to crash, my dorm is always open. We have a pull-out couch and Will won't mind.”

El looked up at him, hope clinging to her as she beamed at him. “Seriously?!” 

Mike nearly melted at her expression, so hopeful and young. Like a puppy begging for a treat. 

How could he say no to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, this was the chapter where i put the title of the story in the story. its curtains for me. lmao bye.
> 
> (jkjkjk... unless...) 
> 
> (I'm a joke)
> 
> I love writing the banter between Mike and El. i hate hate hate that it took so long for it to show up, but dear god, I live for it. please, oh please, let me write more fun and playful conversations. 
> 
> we are tying up loose ends! finally! we are coasting! we are LIVING!
> 
> I'm so so excited for next chapter!!! 
> 
> (we going back to school! wink wink, nudge nudge.)
> 
> support BLM! bye!
> 
> The next chapter's song is Out of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums!!


	17. If I Die Don't Wake Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, my anxiety is sooo bad. i hate how long it took me to write this chapter. my perfectionist is acting up and idk how to feel about that. 
> 
> anyways. this chapter has some moments that are kinda high stress, beware. also, finally, the summary of part two is revealed! with context! 
> 
> anyways, I'll let the chapter take it from here. bye!

"I think that's the last of it."

Max grumbles and turns to glare at El out of the corner of her eye, one earbud jammed up her left ear as she continues unloading what's left in her closet. She's listening to Green Day on the mp3 her mom got her for Christmas.

Because the world is conspiring against her, why not be angry?

El looks stunning today, of course. She's perfect, why wouldn't she look amazing. She's wearing a green sweater that's about three sizes too big, hanging loosely off one of her shoulders revealing a bright blue bra strap. It's one of Mike's sweaters, no doubt. The two have been dating officially ever since New Year's, plenty of time to nab a sweater or two. She's wearing a frilly back skirt underneath it that only reaches to about mid-calf, and white knit socks that have red stripes that rise to just below her knees. 

It's a date night outfit. She can just tell. 

"You can leave your part of the last payment on my bed." She mutters, just loud enough so El will hear her. 

El keeps her expression flat as she digs through her backpack and pulls out four twenties, her hands shaking slightly as she drops them onto the mattress. "I know it's only seventy-five but I don't have any change right now, so just keep it." 

Max glances over her shoulder fully now, red hairs flying around her as she turns to glance at perfect little El Hopper. "Oh, how very kind of you. You must be Mother Teresa." She snaps, her eyes slanting in annoyance as El's eyebrows raise.

"As if you're any better," El mutters, arms crossed over her chest defiantly, gaze clouded in anger. 

"Yeah, I'm not." Max finally stood up, turning fully to face El, ripping her earbud out with her left hand, a sneaker in her right hand. She raises it to point at El accusingly. "But at least I can admit that I'm a bitch who doesn't care about other people." 

El's face softens, a flash of sadness traveling over her features. "I know I'm a bitch, I'm just-" she pauses and runs a hand through her hair, front to back, just like her boyfriend does all the time. It's shorter than last time she saw her, just below her jaw. "I'm working on it." 

Max nods, rolling her eyes. "Yeah ok, whatever." She shoves her earbuds back in- both this time- and continues packing. 

She puts the volume up full blast and pretends not to hear the muffled 'I love you' before the slam of the door.

* * *

"Why do you do that?" 

El glances up from her strawberry milkshake to look at the dark-haired boy sitting across from her in their shared booth at Benny's. 

Mike just got off his shift thirty minutes ago, his hair was a mess and he smelled faintly of sweat. Today was probably a stressful one. Mike tends to muss his hair anytime anything goes slightly awry, and on days like today- Saturdays full of annoying teens on dates and visiting families trying to keep their kids quiet- he always ends up with a giant mess of tangled black curls.

El has to try very hard to focus on what he asked her, and not how his hair looks. 

"What?" She replies, a frown creeping onto her features. 

Mike reaches across the table to where her milkshake glass sits, condensation shining in the light of the setting sun. He extends his index finger to flick at the red plastic straw that leans against the rim, sending it spinning towards her in the glass. 

"Chew your straw. Like, how you bite the edges of it. You always do it whenever we eat somewhere." His fingers drop down to the side of the glass, tracing the thin film of water that sits on the outside. He's probably drawing a stupid smiley face or something of that nature. 

El looks down at her straw and realizes that yes, she was chewing on her straw. 

El glances back up at Mike to see he had sat up fully now, eyes full of wonder as he waits for her reply. 

"It's a nervous tick. I think I picked it up from going on dates with Troye." She frowns and forces her eyes away from Mike's face, letting her focus fall upon the light pink liquid that is sitting in front of her, taking her straw between her fingers to swirl it together. 

But avoiding looking at Mike doesn't make her feel any less guilty when he stutters out a quiet 'oh' and fully retracts his hands from where they were resting by her glass. 

This has been happening ever since they got back.

They go on a date, they joke around, they ask questions, and then one of them takes a step over the line. That line that they put there ages ago, the line that keeps their feelings private and separate from the other, keeping them in the dark. 

Sometimes, both of them cross the line. Moments where El has to stop Mike from unbuttoning her shirt because she's having an episode, or when Mike asks if Max has talked to her in the past few days and El lashes out at him. 

Other times, it feels like only one of them notices when they have crossed a line. Like when Mike started talking about Fanta once and El had to leave his place early because she felt sick to her stomach. 

It's a never-ending cycle. They laugh, they talk, they stop. 

El regrets not asking for the receipt earlier. 

Just then, like a saving grace, Steve walks over to them with a smile on his face. 

"Hey, you two." He slides in beside El easily, ruffling her hair in their typical greeting. "Benny wants me and Dustin to close up early today since you guys are the only people left." El glances over Steve's shoulder to see Dustin tinkering with the cash register, hands flying around as he tries to get the drawer to shut. "So, if you could grab your plates that would be awesome." 

He stands up and looks back over to the counter, pausing in his walking before running and jumping over the counter to force the screwdriver out of Dustin's right hand.

El throws her napkin onto her plate before scooting out of the booth, grabbing her glass just as Mike comes to stand beside her. 

"Those two, huh?" He tilts his head in the direction of the counter, where Dustin is now biting Steve's arm as he tries to get his tools back. 

El sighs and glances over to Mike instead, seeing the worried expression on his face as he tries to force any kind of tension away from them. 

"Yeah. Those two." 

* * *

When they get back to Mike's dorm it's probably way past midnight. With how long it took them to close to talking with Dustin and Steve and then the thirty-minute walk back, it was way past curfew. Luckily, Mike shared a class with his R.A. and they were on good terms. The only obstacle left was Will, and with how busy he's been with course work, no way he's asleep right now. 

So, they walk in without being quiet and talk until the door is shut behind them. 

"You guys were out late. Did you go someplace off-campus?" Will is curled up in the armchair that sits just in front of their tiny TV monitor, charcoal smudges all over his fingers and paint flecks on his pants. He's balancing a leather-bound book on his thighs, a pencil poised skillfully in his right hand as he doodles what looks to be like the view outside their tiny window. 

Mike shrugs off his jacket first and slings it over the coat rack before catching El's as she goes to take it off. They both toe-off their shoes quickly before heading in opposite directions. El makes sure to give him a thankful glance before walking over to sit on the worn pull-out leather sofa. 

"No, but Dustin and Steve were extra talkative today." Mike's deep voice replies. She glances over her shoulder to see him digging around in their mini-fridge, producing two contraband beers for him and El. 

Will was never really a beer guy. He preferred jasmine tea with lemon slices in the evenings. 

Will chuckles as Mike slips into the seat beside her, eyes never leaving his sketchbook. "So, what diabolical plan are they debating now?" 

El takes the beer from Mike and cracks it with her hand (a trick she learned from Hopper) feeling a cool most spread over her palm. "Dustin was talking about that one scene in Ferris Bueller where the two guys steal the Ferrari and drive it all day. He was all like, 'Isn't there a really big business a few miles away?' and then Steve was like, 'yeah, we could  _totally_ steal a Ferrari.' and Mike had to spend a whole hour explaining why that was a terrible idea." 

Will looks at her for a long moment before bursting into a fit of laughter, forgetting his drawing entirely to try and force some air out of his lungs. El is laughing too, but Mike is too focused on trying to open his bottle with his hand to give a full laugh, although he does chuckle a little beside her. 

Will finally catches his breath before reaching for his tea, tipping the mug entirely upside down as the last few drops go down his throat. He sets it back down gingerly before collecting his sketchbook and pencil to stand up. "Ok, I think I'm gonna head to bed. I have that thing tomorrow." He reaches for his mug and walks the few feet to the sink before turning to go into his room, a white door closing with a satisfying click. 

As soon as Will is gone, El reaches across Mike to get his bottle, cracking it open for him and pocketing the bottle cap for herself. Mike simply looks down at his lap in thought. "You don't have to act all macho around me, you know. I know it's embarrassing to be beaten by a girl but-" 

"Do you think I deserve you?" 

El sits up a little straighter, blinking at him a few times before the words process. 

And even when they do, they make no sense at all to El. 

Of course, Mike deserves her. Mike is the nicest, most caring and selfless person in the world, he deserves any girl he could ever dream of. 

El on the other hand… 

"Mike, you deserve so much more than me. How could you even ask a stupid question like that?" She leans forward to slide her bottle onto the small coffee table in front of them, then her cool hands come to clasp Mike's free one. 

Mike swallows and traces her fingers with his own, eyes glassy as he focuses on the yellowing light fanning across her palms. 

"Did you ever read my note?" 

El glances up at him, confusion clear in her eyes as she tries to puzzle out what he's talking about. "What-" 

Before she even has time to finish her sentence Mike is reaching for his wallet at the back of his jeans, forcing his butt up off the cushions so he can pull the grey leather out into the open. He flips it open and plucks a worn piece of loose-leaf paper out into the open, folded into a tiny square that would just fit inside its leather casing. 

"This note. Did you ever read this note." He pauses when he realizes how vague he is being, eyes flying down to the note to try to clarify. "It's longer than any of the others." He says with finality, eyes meeting her own to punctuate his question. 

She glances down at the paper. As far as she knew, Mike never made two copies of one note. Why would this one be any different? 

What did she miss all those years ago? 

El's head is spinning and her mouth is dry. Her brain is screaming at her to rip the paper to threads but her heart wants to read it and cherish it. She wants to punch Mike in the face right now, and she has no idea why. 

When she looks up, instead of Mike, it's Kali, holding up a drawing El did of the two of them, wearing crowns with big blocky letters that said 'king of the world'. 

It's too much, it's so much and it makes her feel sick. 

She doesn't want to know what it says, because what if she was wrong. What if she could've been with Mike this whole time, what if it was all worthless. 

Max, Jenny, Stacey, Troye. 

What if she didn't have to hurt anyone?

* * *

When she wakes up the next morning, she's in Mike's bed, curled up against his chest as his steady breathing syncs with her own. 

She doesn't remember much from last night. Whenever she gets a really bad episode that always happens. 

It's like blackout drinking, but blackout panic attacks instead. 

She sits up, shrugging Mike's hand off of her waist and forcing herself onto her wobbly legs, walking over to the single mirror that hangs from the door. 

She looks dead. Sunken eyes and snow-white skin, bloodshot eyes, and irises that look much darker than the normal shit brown she's used to. 

She quickly heads into the main room, finding her belongings where she left them yesterday after getting them from her old dorm. Her duffel sits atop one of the two boxes, and when she unzips it, she thanks her past self for putting her makeup bag on top of her mess of clothes.

She grabs the bag along with a bright pink sweater and a pair of jeans before running back to Mike's room, cold hardwood making her steps a bit quicker than normal. 

And of course, it takes her until she's shut the door again to realize that the clothes she was wearing last night are nowhere to be seen. Instead, she's wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of shorts she left here the day she got back on campus.

El knows a lot about herself. She knows she's a stuck up bitch, for one, and for two, she knows that when she blacks out, she never, ever changes clothes by herself. 

So that would mean Mike had to do it. 

She feels a lot of things at that statement. Embarrassment, annoyance, anger, but mostly, arousal. 

It's not like they haven't been doing stuff these last few weeks, they just haven't done  _it_ . Maybe it's because Mike is inexperienced. Maybe it's because El isn't ready yet. 

Whatever it is, it didn't stop them from throwing shirts, pants, or skirts off in the heat of the moment, only to stop at the last second. 

But the idea of Mike seeing her mostly naked and helpless, and just taking care of her, not taking advantage of her… 

It's something she hadn't realized was possible until this very moment, and it makes her entire being warm in a way she hasn't felt in years. 

She shakes her head and brings herself back to the present, fabric clutched to her chest as she blinks away her thoughts. As she comes back to earth, she nearly jumps out of her skin when Mike's dark eyes meet her own. 

"You awake? S' early?" Mike yawns through his words and scratches at his chin, eyes falling shut as if he could fall asleep while leaning up on his elbows like that. 

El flushes as a stray thought of 'I wonder if he always looks like this when he wakes up' runs through her mind, yanking any kind of sleep away from her with violent embarrassment. "Yeah! I uh, I was gonna go…" El's eyes dart around the room frantically, taking in the messy surroundings of t-shirts strewn about, textbooks lying open and empty coffee cups- wait… "Get us coffee! You know, tomorrow is our first day back! Gotta make sure any homework we have left is done!"

Mike mumbles something incoherent before standing up and shoving off his blanket. He's wearing a shirt, which is odd because El knows from the few mornings she's woken him up in the past few days that he doesn't wear a shirt to bed. 

She feels kind of bad that her sleeping in the same bed with him changed that. What if he was sweaty all night?

He's up and to his dresser in a few seconds, and without thought undresses down to his briefs, making El flush and turn away from him. 

Not even a moment later she feels warm arms wrap around her torso and a bare chest pressing against her back, only one layer of thick cloth to keep them separated. 

His warm breath brushes against her ear as he speaks and she has to resist leaning back into him. "You can go into the other room if you're uncomfortable, I just thought, since we've already seen it all…" His chin comes down to rest on her shoulder in a tired sort of slump. 

El feels that same warmth from earlier, the one she can't quite put a name to. It lasts a bit longer this time, so she's able to identify a sort of soft, calming feeling coming from within her belly, and the strange desire to freeze this moment. This one snapshot of a life she knows is temporary. Right here, right now, for the rest of eternity.

She barely notices when she mumbles back to him, and her voice sounds so unlike her own, warm and happy and- oh god- _domestic_ . "I know, I know. It's just all very…" she trails off, fingers playing with the fabric of the sweatshirt she has clutched against her chest. 

One of Mike's hands comes up to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger, and El nearly collapses into him. 

What is going on? Why is she so…  _ melty _ ? 

“New. I know.” a smile is evident in his voice and El wants to pinch him for being so smug. 

That's when Mike's free hand reaches her hip. 

It feels familiar- as if she had lived this moment before- not in a good way. 

Sweaty hands that forced themselves upon her in the dark of alleyways or bedrooms. She would stay silent, let it happen. After all, she was an actress dedicated to her craft. 

The craft of putting on a mask and dancing with a guy you can only pretend to love. 

She remains calm now because, at this moment, she still feels grounded, but it doesn't stop her from moving away from Mike's gentle hold, nervous energy radiating from her. 

She wordlessly walks to the other side of the room, removing her dirty clothing and replacing it with the newly washed clothes from her duffel, detergent seeping into her senses and making her feel clean. 

When she turns back around Mike is dressed too, a snug, grey, long-sleeved shirt covering his chest and dark blue jeans lying low on his hips. He looks like he barely even tried to get dressed, and yet he's still one of the most beautiful people she's ever seen. 

She positions herself in front of his mirror, doing her make-up and watching in the reflection behind her as Mike checks his voice mail. He had one from Holly, thanking him for the money he sent over a few days ago, telling him about how she was gonna get the stuff to make herself a late-birthday cake. 

Once El has put on her lip gloss, she's normally good to go. But today, something was off. 

El grumbled and turned to look at Mike, who was playing with one of her hair ties. She grabbed it from his hands and turned back to the mirror, face pouting. 

"I hate my face." 

Mike hums lowly, a knowing smile crossing his features. "Says miss popular cheerleader." 

El groans as her hand comes up to pull a few tangles from her hair. "No, I mean- it just doesn't feel like myself. Like my outsides are playing a mean trick on my insides." 

Mike somehow procures another elastic- where  _are_ those coming from?- and ties it into a loose knot, sticking each of his index fingers into the ends, biting the inside of his cheek in thought.

"Maybe we all have to eventually face ourselves if we wanna be happy." He stops fussing with the hair tie, eyes coming to meet hers in the reflection of the mirror as she tries to smooth out her hairline. "Like how you have to look in the mirror every day and fuss over your hair because you think It's ugly, even though it's actually really pretty."

El turned around to see a knowing smirk spread gingerly across Mike's face, making her laugh. "What are you? my therapist?"

Mike frowned, putting one finger into the end of the elastic to send it flying her way. "Ma'am it's against the rules for me to be seeing a patient. Do you need a higher dose of your meds?"

El snorted and pulled her hair up into a ponytail with the elastic she took from him earlier, bright purple and sparkly. "Yeah, whatever frog face." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oK HolY sHiT. 
> 
> I love love love this chapter. I love how I slid in Dustin and Steve. I love how we're back at the diner. I love Mike trying to reach out to El. But mainly, I love punk rock Max. Shes just... immaculate. 
> 
> for some reason, I've been stuck wanting to watch Ferris Bueller like all the time lately. Maybe I like the soundtrack, maybe Sloan is VERY attractive to me. We'll never know. 
> 
> anyways, ACAB and BLM are really important, make sure you're calling numbers and voting in petitions! One week doesn't fix years of oppression! My heart goes out to anyone who is protesting and I wish you all safety in your fight for justice! Comments make me less lonely! Love ya!
> 
> next chapter's song is Talk Too Much by COIN


	18. I've Found Myself, I'm Someone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so i lied. 
> 
> this chapter's song is NOT Talk Too Much by COIN. 
> 
> it is instead, Maybe You're The Reason by the Japanese House
> 
> this is for good reason, and that reason is...! 
> 
> i had to completely scrap my first draft!
> 
> i realized that if i there you straight into the climax here, it would feel rushed and stupid, because these two had to have a kind of realization for this to work the way it does. so, this chapter is instead going to help me set up what exactly will happen in the next few chapters, and introduce new ideas and characters that otherwise probably would've felt rushed. 
> 
> so, the original plan for this chapter, is actually going to be next chapter. 
> 
> anyways, its been wayyy too long go ahead and read up.

Therapy has always been kind of weird for El.

"So, why don't we start by introducing ourselves." 

Sometimes, she wonders if therapy helps people. 

"We'll go counter-clockwise around the circle and give our name, age, and, for fun, favorite color." 

Honestly, it kind of makes her feel more insane.

“I’ll go first, I’m Doctor Tracy, my favorite color is yellow, and I'm way older than any of you.”

It might be because most cheerleaders are too dumb to be depressed, and she… 

“Ok, your turn, young lady.” 

Well, let's just say she would rather be dumb. 

“Hi! My name is Jennifer but Everyone calls me Jenny!” 

Like Jenny. She’s dumb. She’s also bipolar, but at least she gets to be ignorant of the number of people who hate her. 

“Uhm- I think my favorite color is pink?” She’s swaying in her seat, long blonde tresses of hair flowing around her perfectly, straightened to look like some kind of exotic silk. She’s got on a sweater today- pink, obviously- with a small cutout in the front that almost looks accidental. El’s nearly convinced it was. Her jeans are torn to shreds at the knees and the stitching is intricate and tailored to her form. 

_ They're the kind of clothes her rich daddy can pay for.  _

“That's what Stacey says my favorite color is, because her favorite is teal, so we match. Kinda sweet, I guess.” 

She pauses and gets this look of confused contemplation on her face as if she’s a computer program and it's taking her a while to load. 

The doctor cuts in after a few minutes of dull silence. The casual scraping from the anxiety-ridden twitchy guy and a scoff from the ratty haired bitch with two different colored eyes are the only sounds to fill the stretch of quiet, and you would imagine how  _ fascinating _ those are. 

_ Oh, please, doctor, stare at your clipboard, and pretend to care even less, please! _

“How old are you Jenny?” the doctor says a bit forcefully, eyes glued to her clipboard as she takes suspiciously doodle-shaped notes. 

"Oh, right!" She giggles obnoxiously, wisps of blonde floating around her. "I'm nineteen." 

The doctor clicks her pen impatiently. "Great. Ok, your turn, sir." She nods reluctantly to a blonde man sitting right next to Jennifer and he quietly squeaks in response, the chair underneath him scraping again. 

"My- my name is T- T-" he groans nervously, his head twitching to one side. "Thomas, uh my fav- my favorite color is green and-" he scans the room as if he was checking for a listening device. "I'm twenty-seven." He adds with finality. 

"Uh-huh, ok." The Doctor is now curling a strand of her dark black hair around her pen, lips pursed as if she was thinking deeply. "You, miss?" 

The dark tan girl sitting with her elbows on her knees, legs far apart and looking up, and rolls her eyes. "Catrina, red, twenty-three." She seems to mumble her speech, but it still comes out rather sharp and pointed, angry, and aggressive. It's only slightly ruined by the fact that there are a few long, blonde strands of hair sticking to her black leggings. El nearly jumps when her two-toned eyes turn to glare at her, long stiletto nails disappearing behind a fist, a red friendship bracelet peeking out behind her sleeve.

El gulps and pointedly avoids her glance, eyes coming up to meet the doctors. 

_ For some reason, the doctor is still the scariest person here. _

"And you?" An eyebrow raises and El gulps, head spinning.

_ Dear god, is this meant to feel so isolating? Why is it that everyone is staring at me? _

_ I used to love to make people stare because I felt powerful, now I just feel cold, and alone.  _

_ I can't stand with a squad anymore, and I'm not pretty enough on my own!  _

_ They're bound to see through it, right? _

"My name is El. I'm uh-" she looks down to her toes, doing the thing Helen taught her for when she started dissociating.  _ One red headband, two orange highlighters, three yellow table lamps- _ "I'm nineteen, and my favorite color is blue." 

The doctor moved on without a beat and every single pair of eyes fell from her as the last person in the circle giggled behind her palm. 

"The name's Dotty." She smiled as her head seemed to bounce around to look at everyone in the circle, hand coming down to rest in her lap. "I'm twenty-four, and my favorite color-" her eyes met El's and a thrill went through El's spine, causing the blonde woman to grin back wickedly. "Is lavender." 

_ 'I know it's girly but I think my favorite color is lavender.' Kali smiled down at El, ignoring the view of the cityscape from their window to stare at her lovingly. 'I think it's calm, and if I could, I would be calm every day of my life.' _

When El realized people we're packing up, she had finally come back to reality, only catching a glimpse of the mysterious girl as she left. 

The doctor was in front of her, holding out a pamphlet that said in big bold lettering: 'FREE GROUP COUNSELING AT THE DOWNTOWN CHICAGO LGBT YOUTH CENTER' and just underneath it, in tiny, tiny letters: 'one month free before annual billings of $600.'

It was ridiculous. The only place in Chicago someone like her could afford to talk about their feelings, and they had to put a target on their back to get there. 

And it still isn't affordable. 

_ Thank you, Mike Wheeler, for forcing me to go!  _

El grabbed her backpack and walked out of the small storefront, beginning her normal trek home down the pavement, when her ears picked up a familiar voice. 

"Hey, Max, sorry I didn't respond. Stacey just texted me, so I can go with you guys to lunch today. I'm gonna wait here, you can figure the rest out. Bye." 

There she was, in all her beautiful glory. Jennifer Hayes. Stupid as ever, leaning her head back into a brick wall as she sagged into an iron bench in front of a nearby flower shop window. 

She looked sad. Not sad as in, 'Oh, this isn't vodka punch' sad, but mournful. As if she was watching a part of herself crumble.

And so, the first wholly unselfish decision she made in her life was deciding to take the seat next to the blondest girl she's ever met. 

And even more surprising, Jenny didn’t react  _ at all.  _

No chipper ‘hello!’ with a too-wide smile or dazed ‘hey!’ as she nearly drops a red solo cup. Instead, she just put her smartphone back into her bag, eyes trained downwards towards the concrete below her fur-lined boots. 

“Are you okay?” 

She watches as the blonde jumps, eyes widening in shock at the intrusion before shrinking back upon realizing it was just El.

“Oh- uh- Hey!” that charming smile returns, stretching across her face, only this time, El notices the quiver of her top lip, the distance in her eyes, the walls she's putting up as the silence goes on. It's the same look she used to see in the mirror almost every morning.

El sighs, heavy and deep, and her eyes bore into the deep blues next to her. "You don't have to put up an act.” El flushes when the girl's eyes widen, and she averts her gaze to the street. “I'm done with all that gossip stuff. I'm not gonna tell anyone.” 

Jenny is silent for a long time. At this point, El probably would have been past her favorite coffee shop down on the corner, but here she was, sitting with someone who made her miserable for years. 

It's something that a few years ago she would have done without a thought. But now, with winter coming to an end soon, it feels like a part of her reserve has melted away. With the warmth of dark eyes and nights spent beneath a ratty comforter, she's grown to realize that pretending to be happy doesn't make you feel any better. It probably just makes things shittier. 

“Do you wanna know something?” 

El turns her head around to see Jenny has shrugged off her shoulder cross bag to rest it on the ice-covered ground next to the bench. Her face is blank, but her stare is kind, eyes soft and empathetic as she looks over at the brunette. 

El nods and shrugs off her backpack, realizing that she isn't in any kind of hurry.

Jenny’s face softens when El finally turns to her, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips. 

“My IQ is over one-seventy.” 

El blinks a few times, deciding that she needs to wake up from this dream, but it doesn't work. Jenny is still sitting across from her, flowers still peer into her vision in the corners of her eyes, and the ground beneath her is wet and slick with ice. 

“What?” El stares back into deep blue eyes and counts down from ten in her head, trying to find some sort of explanation. 

Instead, Jenny cuts in. 

“I'm smart.” she laughs. “You know, I used to help Stacey with her math homework in like, third grade.” 

The wind blows a few curly brown strands in the wind, and El tucks a few behind her ears. “Then why do you always act so… uh-” her brain short circuits as she tries to find a way to not offend the blonde. 

“Ditsy?” 

El swallows and her face flushes bright red, but she nods anyway. Jenny laughs again as if it's so silly that El can’t understand. 

“I never felt the need to act smart around my friends. I know to you my relationship with Stace might look…” she glances down towards the sidewalk, a small smile on her face and a laugh in her voice. “Bad. but we’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember. I like doing things with her, and even if she isn't always the kindest person, I've got her back and she’s got mine. It makes me happy to know that no matter how much I piss her off, we’re always gonna stick together.” she pauses for a second before looking to El, expecting a response. 

And somehow, El finds the words she needs. 

“I'm sorry,” she says weakly, eyes never straying from blue. “I was wrong about you. Maybe I-” she swallows and squeezes her eyes shut. 

She cannot keep doing this. Bottling it up inside and lying to innocent people's faces. So, she continues, forcing the words up and out of her lungs. 

She opens her eyes but keeps them focused on the shops across the street. “You never made me do anything, I know you didn't. I can see now that I made the choice to join you guys. I never had to accept Stacey's invite to her first party. I never had to date Troye. But I did, and I can't change that.” she takes one last, steadying breath before turning to look at the girl beside her. “You were kind and considerate, and you actually wanted to be friends with me. And I'm sorry that I lied about wanting to be your friend.” 

Jenny smiles at her, and a dam breaks within El's heart. 

“I know you had your reasons for what you did at the time. I mean…” she pauses, face going flat for a moment before she starts up again. “You know, popularity is a lot like politics.”

El raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“It comes naturally to some people, but others just can't take it. Some do it just for power or fame, and some do it because they want to change the world for the better. But then there are a few people who are never truly invested." She sighs. "It's something that everyone around you seems to be forcing you to do, but really, they're just trying to be supportive.” she turns to look at El, a sort of understanding reflected in her eyes. “I think maybe you just felt like it was something you wanted when really you were just doing it for other people's sake. You didn't realize that people don't care if you become president, or mayor, or head cheerleader. They just want to be there for you.”

El spends a long time sitting there. Thoughts buzzing and running, filling in all the missing pieces she never knew she needed. But just as she’s about to reply, she looks up to see Jenny climbing into a taxi. 

And there, just behind the bright yellow door, is an old friend. Her red hair is brushed for once, and she looks happy. She’s laughing at something that Lucas said, and he smiles at her warmly. 

Jenny is easily welcomed into the conversation, and El almost wants to look away, but then the blonde waves, and Max peers over her shoulder, eyes meeting El’s for the first time in what feels like weeks. 

And for some reason, she smiles. 

The door snaps shut and then the car drives off, and El is left alone, with only her thoughts to keep her company. 

* * *

“I thought you said we were going somewhere new.” 

Lucas rolled his eyes and scooted out of the taxi’s backseat, holding the door open for Max and Jenny. “Well for the record, I have never eaten here.”

Max hopped out beside him, a confused look crossing her features. “Seriously? Two of your best friends work here. Shouldn't you be like, a regular by now?”

Jenny was the last to get out. She was farthest from the curb, so that made sense. She really would have preferred going to someplace nicer and less greasy, but Benny’s diner would have to do. Her diet wasn't that important. 

She pulled out her phone, quickly typing out a message to Stacey telling her that she had just gotten to the diner, almost immediately receiving a reply. 

_ Ok, love you bunches! Stay safe! Xoxo _

Jenny felt her cheeks redden as she forced her feet to move forward and keep up with the other two. 

“No, because I knew if I showed up alone and Dustin saw me he would have used his small amount of power over me to his advantage.”

Max was silent for a moment before nodding. “Ok, yeah, I see your point.”

Jenny let her feet move through the door as Lucas propped it open with his arm, and despite herself, Jenny found her thoughts drifting again. 

Jenny and Stacey had always had kind of an odd relationship. 

They shared everything- from the moment they were born, to now. Toys, clothes, friends, boys, cars, you name it, they've probably shared one before. 

The only thing they didn't share was affection. 

Jenny has been in love with Stacey since grade two, and Stacey has been in love with her for just as long. But with popularity and culture and what they were taught, they always just treated it as a ‘best friends’ thing. 

And it stayed like that for a long time. 

Well, until they moved in together. 

“Table for two?” 

Jenny snapped back into the moment, only finding herself staring directly at Max and Lucas’s backs, blocking anything in front of her from her view. 

She sent Stacey another message, this time a very short one. 

_ Remind me to wear heels next time I go out with anyone over 5’ 7”  _

Her reply was immediate again. 

_ I gotcha babe _

* * *

Mike hated the daytime shifts he took on the weekends. 

He has probably expressed this an annoying amount of times already, but it felt necessary to say it now, as Max, Lucas, and Jenny, of all people, had just walked in through the door. 

Normally, El would show up around this time to hang out with him. But today, Mike had sent her to someplace nearby that was holding free group therapy, which is something she had brought up constantly in the past week. 

They’d be talking about tests coming up, and then she would say something like, “A therapist could probably help with my time management skills.” before going on about her psych professor.

They would be having a beer and watching  _ Clueless _ , cuddled up on the living room couch, Will watching silently in his armchair, and she would interrupt with a, “Maybe Cher just needed to go to therapy instead of ruining Tai’s life.” earning a quick laugh from Will and a flick to the forehead from Mike. 

Or, in recent events, pushing Mike away as they gasped for breath, lips only parting enough for her to mutter, “Fucking Helen.” before diving back in. 

Well, that only happened once, but one was far too many times for that. 

So here he was, sacrificing flirty conversation for ten dollars an hour in a greasy diner. 

That didn't stop him from replaying the sound of her laugh in his head as he wiped down the counters.

"Mike." 

He jumps and turns around, eyes widening in confusion before his gaze travels up a familiar round frame. 

"Oh, Benny. Hey. What is it?" 

Mike hates to admit this out loud but he thinks he's beginning to become friends with Benny.

It's weird, because people are supposed to hate their bosses or something, right? 

But there's just something old and wise about the man that makes Mike feel… appreciated. 

_ Wanted, needed. _

"I need you to go wipe down those tables over there." He gestures vaguely to a few booths lined up by the front window. "Dustin is swamped with the lunch rush, so he can't get to all of 'em." He grunts and takes a heavy step forward, his left hand coming to scratch the edge of his beard. "I'll help you finish up here first." 

Mike nods and reaches for a dry rag from one of the bins below the counter, tossing it over to the larger man with ease. "Yeah, ok." 

They're silent for a few minutes, Mike wiping down the counter as he listens to the new girl trying to work the register. 

She's about a year older than Steve, blonde hair, short nails, and like a thousand piercings, along with a red friendship bracelet, which is tied loosely around her wrist. 

The last time El was here she mentioned that she was definitely a lesbian. 

_ Mike could care less about who she's dating. Her two friends who keep coming in here during her shifts, though, more than annoying. _

Mike's mind drifts around the diner, eyes catching on people he knows from classes, professors grabbing a bite to eat as they plan lessons, regular customers who stop by from off-campus. All of them fit in with the normal flow of the diner. The only ones who stick out are-

"Hey." 

Mike jumps, squeezing his rag in his hands and making bleached water run down the crevices in his fingers. A couple sitting a few feet away give him a wide berth as he turns to look back at Benny. 

"You wipe in circles, not lines, kid. You know this shit." He doesn't even look up from drying the puddle of water he just created on the counter, eyes laser-focused as he dries up a few wet spots. 

Mike shakes himself internally before dipping his rag back into the bucket of cleaning solution below the counter. "Sorry. Just-" his eyes drift to three heads, now seated in a booth across the diner. "Distracted." 

Benny stops and follows Mike's gaze, and almost instantly, realization pours over his features.

"Isn't that your girlfriend's friend?" 

Mike grimaces and turns to look back at the burly man standing next to him. "Uh- ex-friend now." 

Benny raises an eyebrow, hands going back to drying the counter while his eyes stay trained on Mike's. 

Mike sighs deeply and resumes his cleaning as well, letting his mouth carry his thoughts for once. "I mean, I know that high school friendships don't last forever, but those two were inseparable, and now Max is hanging out with Jenny of all people, and I just-" Mike swallows. "I just really wish they would make up already." 

There's another stretch of silence where Mike can hear the faint sound of a Smashing Pumpkins song playing weakly behind the chatter. New girl's friends are laughing loud enough for the whole diner to hear, and silverware scrapes against plates all around him.

"Listen, kid." 

Mike looks back over to his boss to see he's put his rag away, the counter shining dimly in the early afternoon sun. 

"I know that there's more to it than just your girlfriend. Don't think I haven't noticed how you don't hang out with Dustin and your other friend as much anymore."

Mike rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

"In the time you've been working here you've picked up every empty shift for Dustin, Steve, and any other kid who has an essay or a test, or whatever. You don't even give yourself time to decide for yourself if you have time for that sort of thing. You're constantly being pushed around, and you let it happen." Mike blushes and Benny raises his hands in defense. "I'm not saying that you helping your friends is a bad thing, but honestly, you don't give yourself time to care for yourself." He gazes off towards the parking lot. "I mean- have you even decided what you're going to major in yet?" 

Mike's vision goes blurry as he tries to pull something, anything to mind, but he's drawing a blank. He stutters out something he doesn't even understand before the hand holding his rag falls to the counter with a splat. 

"You don't have to die a martyr, kid. This is the time in your life where you should be free." He gestures around the diner. "I mean, look around you. Every person in here has a dream- and they're all doing their best to achieve it." His fingers close down into a fist, only his meaty index finger left, coming around to point at Mike accusingly. "Everyone except for you." 

Mike blinks, and suddenly Benny is gone, walking back into the kitchen. 

"Figure it out, kid." He stares at him blankly, eyes scanning the diner once more. "But first, wipe down the tables." 

Mike nods, and just like that, the man is gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, today's chapter has a lil game. 
> 
> (you don't have to play, just a way to understand references and ways that i include things i like into my writing. the story will make sense whether you know or if you don't know the refs.)
> 
> so, the side characters that act as annoyances in this chapter for both Mike and El are actually heavily inspired by characters from some of my favorite shows. I'm not going to tell you, but if you checked out my bookmarks and stuff it would probably be easy to tell who they are. at least, you would be able to identify them if you know the show. 
> 
> the five inserts are the two unknown characters from therapy (renamed for fun's sake) and the new girl at the diner along with her two friends. the friendship bracelet thing IS intentional, so keep that in mind as a sort of hint. the one guy is pretty easy to tell with his mannerisms and stuff, so yeah. 
> 
> btw, the way mike analyzes 'new girl' isn't just for you to figure that out, it meant to show that he is focusing on the wrong things in all aspects of his life. just so happened to be convenient, hahaha!
> 
> anyways, Jenny and Stacey are the friends to lovers trope and you CANNOT tell me otherwise ok, i stand by what i said, they are GAY. 
> 
> quick reminder: bc i pushed last chapter up, next chapter's song is Talk Too Much by COIN.


	19. Shut Me Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god it's here. It's here and you're gonna know the plot now aaaaaa.

“Ok, so I've been thinking.”

Mike smiles at El, who is sat bolt upright on their living room couch, piles of papers and textbooks surrounding her.

“You? Thinking? Bad idea.” Mike bumps the door closed with his heel and pulls his coat off, slinging it awkwardly on their coat hanger as his toes try to pry off his shoes. 

El laughs and Mike feels that familiar pang of warmth within him spark to life, dragging him into her as she moves her papers off of her lap. “Don't take off your shoes yet! I have to tell you this first!” 

Mike raises an eyebrow and sees the spark hidden behind the browns of her eyes, deciding that whatever this was, it meant a lot to El. 

So, he stopped his awkward toe-heel shuffle and watched as El stood, walking over to him with a slight skip in her step. 

"So, earlier today, after I got back from therapy, I decided to go on a walk around your building, clear my head, you know?" She stops about an inch from his face, noses brushing together lightly, making his heartbeat that much faster. 

"Anyways, I found this place, and I got to thinking, maybe this could be like, a date." She leans forward slightly, giving him a chaste kiss before balancing on the heels of her feet, her hand quickly finding his. "So, wanna come with me?" 

And how could he say no?

* * *

It's been a few hours since Jenny talked to her, but her thoughts still won't settle. 

What did she mean she wasn't meant for popularity? Was she not pretty enough? Did she need to bleach her hair blonde?

And what reasons did she have for choosing to be popular? 

The invite? No. She could've turned that down easy. 

Max? No. She never forced her to do anything. 

Mike? No. She had missed him, and she wasn’t avoiding him. 

And that really only leaves-

Kali. 

_ Why does it always come back to Kali?  _

She makes it up to the roof, silently dragging Mike along behind her, hoping he can't tell just how scared she is. She stops a few feet from the door, forcing feeling away from her face as she turns to him with a false smile. 

"So… what do you think?" 

He's mesmerized, of course. Small, sparkling white flakes fall from the sky, hitting the asphalt and melting at the touch. The sky is a dark blue, stars shining through the atmosphere and making his eyes sparkle. 

She can't help thinking he's beautiful, even with the dark circles under his eyes. Even with his smelly work clothes. 

"What's that?" 

El blinks and looks over to where he's pointing, seeing the blanket fort she set up earlier that day, futon sprawled against the concrete and knitted blankets folded neatly underneath one of the metal folding chairs she used to prop up an old quilt. 

"You like? I set it up after I found the spot. Thought it would be a nice touch." She forces her smile to widen, reaching for his hand once again. "Come on, I'll give you the tour." 

* * *

Despite it being February in Chicago, it's warm. 

Maybe his face is still singed in embarrassment from Benny's speech. 

Or maybe it's the girl curled up against him, naked and still trying to catch her breath, lips curled into a smile against his neck. 

"Wow." He mutters, fingers playing lightly with her hair, his heart full. 

She laughs breathlessly. "Yeah, wow." 

"Was I good?" He sees her glance at him. "Like, better than Troye?" 

She laughs, burying her face further into his neck, sending tingles through his skin. "Way better." 

He smiles to himself, his eyes looking upward to trace the pattern of the quilt above him. 

This is what love feels like. This warm, safe, happy feeling. Here he is, cuddled up with El Hopper, underneath a quilt, legs tangled up in the knit fabric of a blanket.

And he realizes that this is everything he's ever wanted.

And he wants to tell her. 

He wants to tell her about how when he first saw her, the world stopped spinning. He wants to tell her that he memorized the smell of her shampoo. He wants to tell her he's in love with the shade of brown in her eyes, and the light brown streaks in her hair, the way it tangles with his fingers and smells faintly of cigarettes. 

He wants to tell her all of his secrets and problems and he wants her to love him back just as fervently. 

And he knows he's overstepping their boundary. Their wall that they built after they saw each other again. The rule saying that any and all feelings were to be kept to yourself. 

But he's been toeing the line for a while.

So he speaks. 

"I think I love you." 

El blinks a few times, eyes fluttering open before falling, and she sits up. 

She breathes in a huff, confusion beginning to cover her features. "What?"

Mike stares back at her, and her face remains still, frozen in that confused glare.

He already knows it's over. 

"You think you love me?" Her eyes widen in disbelief, and for a second, a sliver of hope glows in his chest. Then the light fades from her eyes, and he's sinking again. "You  _ think _ you love me?"

She shoots up, gathering up her clothes from off the ground hastily and throwing her sweater on, pulling up her underwear harshly. Her back is turned to him angrily as she tries to jump into her jeans.

"El, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Sorry?" She freezes and turns to address him. Her fly is still down and her face is melting with tears. "You know, I'm sorry too, Mike." She sniffles and Mike has to hold himself back in order to stay away from her. 

"I'm sorry I gave you the impression that this was anything more than one of my bad decisions because you're perfect and kind, and sweet, and sexy as hell but I haven't been completely honest." She closes her eyes as a puff of steam emits from her slightly parted lips, and Mike hates that she still looks beautiful this way. "You don't know me. You never have."

Mike blinks for a few moments before El begins to walk away. Panicking, he jumps up, throwing on his boxers before running after her. "El, wait!" He grasps one of her shoulders, forcing her to turn around. She looks angry. "I do know you, I've known you since I first saw you, why can't you see that?" 

El shrugs his hand off, eyes narrowed and turned downwards. "Did you know that my biological father tried to sell me into human trafficking? Did you know that my sister sacrificed her freedom for mine?" Her eyes shoot up to meet his widened ones. "Did you know that you were my first ever real, genuine friend? That I didn't want to be popular? That I never wanted to date Troye?" He stiffens slightly, eyes bugging out of his skull as she takes a step forward, getting into his face, fists clenched. "Did you know that Max and I slept together for all four years?" 

He stares at her for a moment, trying his best not to overstep as he opens his mouth to reply. "You slept with Max? You're not- you're a lesbian?" 

She shakes her head sharply. "No. I'm not. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and falling again this time around was so much easier because I already knew you. So no, I guess I'm not gay." 

She shoves him away with one firm hand, and without a word, slams the door to the stairway behind her. 

Mike feels like the air gets colder on his bare skin.

* * *

She's far too drunk to stand, but she seems to have made it to her coffee shop. The one with the brightest street lamp on the block and the cracks in the concrete that spring with dandelions in the summer. 

The one where just three months ago, she thought she broke away from her past. The place she returned to when she realized she wasn't strong enough. 

Earlier, on that roof, that was the moment she realized that she could never truly be free from it all. 

Not if she had to do it alone. 

The bottle of whiskey in her hands is still cold, probably from the temperature outside, but also because there are only a few drops left in the bottle. 

Frat guys ended up chugging half of it before she was able to snatch it from the step on the porch. Which is a shame, because she wouldn't mind dying of alcohol poisoning right here, right now. 

She chucks the bottle across the narrow street that keeps the shops separated, making it shatter on the sidewalk across the street, echoing among the tall shop buildings. She smiles a little before falling back against the shop window behind her, tears violently streaming down her face as she laughs at herself.

Her laughs turn to sobs nearly as quickly as they started, and the tears falling to the ground have made a tiny puddle between her scrunched up knees, where her head rests. 

Time seems to make no sense right now. Maybe she's asleep, maybe she's awake, but she is able to make out a few familiar voices trading hushed words and lingering shadows approaching her.

A red scarf, bleach blonde hair, and a lilac tube top, covered in a puffed jacket. It smells of stale gasoline and rainwater, and that's when she realizes the shadows of the alley she's being dragged into aren't as dark as the spaces behind her eyelids. 

So she slams them shut in hopes that this is all a dream.

* * *

For her it's a blink, for the world it could've been weeks, but eventually, El's eyes are open, and she's in a parking lot, leaned up against a shady looking white van.

The windows are down, and in the rearview mirror, she can see a head of blonde hair pulled back easily and a bandana tied around a wrist, which is flicking ashes from a cigarette. 

"So it really is you?" 

El freezes, and without any kind of warning, a tall woman is standing in front of her, arms crossed with a grimace. 

"Well, long time no see, little sister." She has a frown on her face, but El can tell she's happy to see her. After all, she practically raised her. 

"Kali?" 

* * *

"So what, you just assumed I was dead? Did you think I wasn't going to escape and try and find you?" 

El presses the back of her head against the frame of the car, rolling her eyes as she takes a drag from her cigarette. "I thought you were sacrificing yourself or something deep like that." 

Kali laughs. "And let old white guys with an underage girl fetish keep tossing me around? Fuck no." She reaches over and snatches the cigarette from El's hand. "Never thought you'd be the kind to smoke and pass out drunk on street corners though, so I think we're both surprised." 

El giggles. "Well, what did you think I'd be?" 

Kali smiles and cups El's cheek with her right hand, eyes squinting in thought. "I mean, as a kid you were super nerdy, so I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up being a huge dork." 

El scowls and shoves her hand away lazily. "Yeah, yeah. Well, remember all that talk about cheerleaders and shit from when I was younger?" 

Kali's hand drops, and a wide grin appears on her face. "Oh, yeah! I hate those types of people."

El's eyes widen, and her chest grows cold.

"Mainly because they just have so much…" she gestures her fingers in a circle, eyes foggy before she snaps her fingers. "Power! And they're all so full of themselves."

El rubs her hands up the arms of her jacket, swallowing a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I mean… power goes straight to their head, and it doesn't help that people just go along with it." 

El forces a laugh when Kali snickers. 

"I mean, I wonder what it would be like, but at the same time, I never ever wanna be like that." She glances back over to El, eyes shining. "So, what were you gonna say?" 

El gulps, brain going fuzzy as she's given two options, a crossroads between the good or the bad, and she can't tell where they end, or if they ever do. 

She could lie, save her skin, and run away with Kali and her gang, even the scary buff guy that takes up the whole backseat. She could forget about plastic people and fake smiles, best friends that hate her, and 'I love you's that fall flat. Forget Hop and Joyce and Will and the few good memories that she had in her life, and leave it all behind her. Make new ones while running away from the law. Maybe get arrested and never be seen again. 

Or she could take a risk. Tell the truth and hope that Kali accepts her anyway. Walk home with her morals still somewhat intact and another chance at her old life. Walk to Lucas's apartment and have a long, awkward talk with Max. Say hi to Will and ask about that little side project he's working on. Agree to one of Steve and Dustin's crazy schemes for once. Encourage dad to marry Joyce. Graduate college and become a social worker. 

Get married herself. 

Because she does deserve love, no matter what the dark thoughts swirling in the back of her head say. No matter how many times her past comes to bite her in the ass. 

She deserves love because she has finally learned how to give it. 

To Dustin, Lucas, Will, Max-

Mike. 

She blinks, realizing that time still seems to be wonky for her, because Kali is still there, waiting for her answer patiently. A warm smile gracing her lips as a stream of smoke trails from her cigarette up to the stars.

"I always thought that that was what you wanted for me." She says cautiously, eyes darting to the back of the brick building they're parked between. "The whole 'queen bee who runs the school' attitude. That's what I strived for." bits of snow sparkle as they fall to the ground, despite how dark the alley is. 

She turns to see Kali still beside her, a look of sad understanding sits on her face, but it's not hateful, or angry, or panicked like she had imagined. It's warm and forgiving, reaching its embrace out to her in reassurance, softly whispering 'it's ok' as it watches the tears fall from her eyes.

Kali stays put though, and El's the one that ends up reaching out, only to rest her left hand on top of Kalis right, still warm and all-consuming. The tears still fall, but not out of pain. Out of understanding. Finally seeing the whole picture after eight years of guessing. 

It's a beautiful picture, too. 

"I realized I didn't want it around the end of April last year." 

There are bold strokes that would ruin most pictures. 

"Cut my hair, stopped dressing up for other people, gave up on hanging out with people who didn't even like me, quit faking it."

But here, they just seem to make it even more detailed. 

"And as of this moment-"

You can tell it's been places, seen things, lived a million different lives, yet it keeps its beauty without even trying. 

"I let go of it." 

"Let go of what?" 

El blinks, her eyes straining against a bright light as she looks for where the sound came from, expecting to see Kali and the van, only to find Max, worriedly staring at her from a few feet away. 

El looks at the ground beneath her and realizes she's in the same spot she was before Kali dragged her off, only now, there's a puddle of vomit between her bent legs. 

She looks back up, ignoring the black spots at the edges of her vision and focusing on Max, who's now bent down to her level, eyebrows creased together. 

El swallows and opens her mouth to speak, but her speech is slow and slurred together. 

"Maax? Wh-aaaaaahht arya doin 'ere?" 

That was as far as she got before she was being pulled to her feet. 

"Mike called me." She adjusts El's weight so her arm is supporting her fully, getting a firm grip on the smaller girl's torso. "So did Will, Hopper, Joyce, Lucas, and Jenny." 

El blinks and allows Max to start walking them towards the nearest bus stop. "Jen-" she hiccups. "-ny?" 

Max giggles lightly. "Yes,  _ Jenny _ . She was at a frat party with Stacy and saw you running off with their booze." 

El snorts and drops her head. "Well, they jus' leftit there on th' steps. Wastey." 

Max smiles as they walk into the glass structure of the bus stop. "You mean waste- _ ful _ ?"

El shakes her head. "No. Wastey." 

Max sets El down on the bench and digs out her phone, flipping it open to reveal twenty or so texts from Lucas. 

'It was just an excuse, right?' 

Blah, blah, blah.

'You only love her in a friend kind of way?'

Blah, blah, blah.

'Please come back'

Blah, blah, blah.

_ Dear god, he sounds needy.  _

The bus shows up, and Max turns to El, a smile on her face. "Come on, let's get you-" 

She's passed out on the bench. 

_ Just my luck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short but it made me really sad while writing it so as soon as everything was said, I felt like I could keep it brief. It's very emotional, probably the most emotional chapter I've written. Probably just because it hits so close to home for me. 
> 
> Anyways. Next chapters song is Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski


	20. Bury Me In Your Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return! 
> 
> Ok, I like this chapter quite a bit. Not sure why, it just felt very fun to write. 
> 
> Took me a while to get it to show exactly how each character feels, but I think I did it pretty well here. 
> 
> Quick note: this chapter has memories because at this point in the story, the characters are starting to realize they have to come to terms with their pasts instead of just ignoring it. It's my way of saying, "hey, the high stakes stuff is over now, let's just tie up all these loose ends now."
> 
> More notes on this at the end, but for now, enjoy!

An hour ago, Max had thought El was dead. 

The first call she got was from Mike. It was nearly ten pm when he called her saying El had walked off after a fight they had. He had wanted to check to see if she knew anything.

She didn’t.

Max had no clue as to why Mike called her first, he just did. 

The second call came from an unknown number at ten-forty, who she soon learned was William Byers, AKA: Most Likely To Become El’s Step Bro. He said he had gotten her number from El awhile back but had no reason to call until that very moment. 

Will told Max that El had woken him up to tell him she was leaving and needed to borrow a jacket. He obliged before turning back to sleep for another thirty minutes. When he woke up, he found all of her stuff packed up into her duffle, sitting just outside the door. Will had tried to contact Mike, but he wasn’t responding. So he called the only other person he thought she might be with: Max. 

Max still ignored the worry ebbing into her, telling herself that El was fine and probably just going for a walk to clear her head. 

The third person to call was Jenny. She called around eleven-thirty. Max had been up doing homework when she had, and never in her life has she ever been more thankful for the shit ton of coursework she had. 

Jenny was calling from a party, saying El had walked up to the house with a tremble in her step and had stolen a half-empty bottle of expensive whiskey. Jenny said she was out on the porch at the time, and when she had tried to stop her, El had called her a slut and run off.

This was where she really started to worry. 

She distinctly remembers staring at her unfinished essay and just not processing anything other than panic. 

She must have sat there for at least ten minutes before she had gone to get her jacket from Lucas's room. 

Lucas wasn't home at the time. He spent the night closing the diner with Dustin in place of Mike, who had clocked out early. Max isn't fully sure why, but maybe that was related to his and El's fight? 

That's a question for sober El, but sober El isn't here at the moment. All Max has is a passed-out-on-her-left-shoulder-on-a-smelly-bus El. And she certainly isn't taking questions right now. 

The fourth call came after she arrived at the frat party in search of El, to which she only found Jenny and Stacey furiously making out on the porch. 

_Which, good for them, but also, not what she was looking for._

Hopper told Max that Joyce had forced him to call her after receiving a concerned text from Will. Hopper had tried to explain that her and El were fighting to Joyce, but she didn't listen. 

All of this sounds like unimportant, concerned parent bullshit, but before Hop hung up, he told Max that El had called him earlier that day on the way home from therapy, asking about any files he might have on Kali, a name that was very familiar to the Hoppers. Hop thought she might have had an episode at therapy and seen it as evidence to run off and go looking for her. 

Max had talked to Joyce briefly, mainly repeating the phrases 'I'm sure she's fine' and 'I'm already looking for her' before saying a quick goodbye and continuing on her search.

The last call came from Lucas at half-past midnight, only an hour before she found El. 

She can't summarize it in words without breaking down into tears, but one part just keeps replaying in her head. 

_"I have no idea what you're thinking. You could get hypothermia!"_

_"So could El!"_

_"So what, you'd do this for anyone you know? She is an adult you know, she can care for herself."_

_"No. This is different, and she's drunk, Lucas."_

_"How the fuck is it different? She's clearly bad for you! Why do you keep coming back to her?"_

_"Because I miss her and I love her and if she dies tonight I don't think I could ever fall in love again!"_

And like an idiot, she had hung up. 

Not because she had revealed something secret to Lucas, but because she had revealed something secret to herself. 

Something she hadn't known was there until she thought El could be dead. 

It's terrifying that that's what it took for her to notice. 

* * *

_"Truth or dare?"_

_"Dare."_

_"Kiss the prettiest person in the room."_

_"Stacey, sit down. I'm not kissing you."_

_"Max! What the fuck? I'm not the prettiest?"_

_"You're the sluttiest. It's different."_

_"So who are you gonna kiss?"_

_A heated gaze shoots across the circle._

_"El, obviously."_

* * *

Mike isn't sure he knows what love is anymore. 

He thought love was giving someone your everything and loving every part of them without hesitation. 

However, according to Oscar Wilde, he's completely false.

...And also, according to his own rules, he is completely false. 

He’s just fallen into bed, and he’s already bringing himself further down. He sits up, his eyes foggy as he tries to bring the world into focus.

He’s an idiot.

He thought he loved El Hopper for everything she was, when in actuality, he fell in love with Jane. She hadn't left, and she still lied to herself, but she lied to him this time too. 

And he knows that they're the same person. The same El. 

But when you compare the girl whose laugh sounds like birds chirping, to a girl who storms out after hearing 'I love you,' it's hard to not draw a line between them. 

He takes his hand away from his eyes, looking around his dorm room with a new sense of emptiness. 

He keeps thinking back to what Benny said about him being a martyr. 

He knows that giving up isn't the same as compromising. He knows that in order to compromise you must have wishes of your own, which he doesn't. 

He stopped wishing for things when the first wish he ever had ended with the prize in the arms of his worst enemy. 

But maybe he could start now. 

After all, his first choice didn’t really work out. Might as well try something new.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he looks at the caller ID, already expecting it to be El when he sees her name flash across the tiny display. 

He sighs and presses the ignore button on his keypad, falling back into his mattress as his brain tries to talk to his heart for the first time in ages. 

When he wakes up next he doesn't remember what it feels like to love someone.

* * *

_“You’re leaving soon right?”_

_“Yeah, sorry. Is mom still asleep?”_

_“Yeah, she’s still hungover.”_

_“Do you want me to make you some food before I go? You can keep the leftovers for the week.”_

_“Ok, but if mom wakes up you have to leave.”_

_He ruffles her hair before grabbing the last couple boxes of his stuff._

_“‘Kay, Holls”_

* * *

“He isn’t picking up!” 

“El seriously, calm down. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.”

El laughs, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “As if that would be worse than this fucking hangover.” She reaches up to the coffee table and takes another long drink of water, trying to ignore the feeling of shattered glass running down her throat. 

"Do you need another aspirin?" Max looks over to the couch from where she's cooking on the stove. 

El nods and wills herself to call him once more, shakily selecting his contact with the keypad, little button clicks taking her attention away from the pats of bare feet going off to search for something.

The second it starts buzzing she drops the phone and cowers back into the couch, spine curved against the cushions stiffly. 

"Max! I can't do it!" 

"What can't you do?" A deeper voice says from behind her.

El shrieks and falls sideways onto the couch as Lucas peers over the back of the couch to see her curled up into a ball, visibly shaking as her phone rattles out a familiar message.

_"Hey! It's Mike."_

El gasps and reaches for her phone as Lucas watches her with a pitiful interest. 

"Mi-"

_"I'm sorry I can't get to the phone right now, you know, college and stuff."_

El deflates and drops her phone back onto the cushions, right next to her ear, listening to his voice. No matter how many times she hears the recorded message, she always hopes it's really him on the other end of the line. Well, if she can't have the real thing, maybe an answering machine would do for now. 

_"If this is Mom or Holly, keep calling. Wait until I respond before doing anything rash."_

Lucas sighs deeply and walks around the couch, plopping down next to El as she clutches her phone loosely in her hands. 

_"If you're anyone else, leave a message after the beep."_

The phone lets out a long tone and El swallows roughly, eyes searching for a redhead, but only finding empty space. 

"Hey, Mike. This is El. Uhm, your inbox is probably full at this point, but… uh…" 

El glances over at Lucas who just stares right back at her, eyes void of any kind of feeling, an expression she can remember seeing more than once in her reflection. 

"I was wrong. Not as in the fact that you don't know me, you don't, but I was wrong to yell at you like that."

Lucas narrows his eyes slightly and El feels the weight of the phone in her hands, hot and metallic. 

"It seems I tend to be wrong about a lot of things." She sighs to herself as she moves her focus to the wall of the dorm room, a completely blank slate. Something she would kill to have. 

"I think I've realized that we- you and me- we aren't fake, and I shouldn't have treated it like that."

The shadows seem to move a bit out of the corner of her eye, twisting and twirling around in her vision, whispering secrets to her as she repeats the words out loud. Drowning out any kind of spectator. 

"You're probably the realest thing in the world to me." 

She hears herself laugh at her phrasing, but pushes herself to keep talking. 

"I know that I'm not good enough for you, and I know I'm not who I should've been. Feel free to tell all your friends that I'm an angry bitch who doesn't deserve love, because I know I am and I know I don't." She swallows thickly, and feels a wet tap on her knee. 

"You don't have to respond, or really even listen to this, but if you do, please, just talk to me. Even if it's the last time, I wanna die knowing the last time I heard your voice wasn't your answering machine." 

The beep awakes her from her haze as she blinks away the shadows, finding tears running down her cheeks and an outstretched hand in front of her.

She never really got to know Lucas when she was younger. All she remembered was how viciously protective he was of the people he loved. The people who trusted him just as much as he did them. 

She never had anyone who helped her find her own path. Hop tried but fell short. Max nearly got her out of her shell, but El still wasn't ready. 

Now, she has nothing to lose. No path she can see for miles. No place to hide. 

No worries of making anything worse, because it's already gone to shit.

So maybe she can trust somebody else just this once.

* * *

_"You excited?"_

_"Kinda. What's Hawkins like?"_

_"Hm, pretty boring. No loud traffic late at night or anything like you're used to."_

_"No bad men?"_

_"Unless you consider me a bad man, no."_

_"You're a good man, detective."_

_"What did I say about that detective shit? Call me Hopper."_

_"Ok, Hop."_

* * *

"Hey, so, we're out of aspirin." 

Lucas's eyes instantly fly to hers, and Max feels anxiety boiling up underneath her skin when El peers out from behind him. 

_He told her._

_He told her, and she's in love with Mike._

_He told her and she's gonna hate me._

_He told her and he's never, ever gonna love me._

El sniffles loudly and stands up, her legs wobbling a little as she makes her way over to the coat rack that's nailed to the wall and grabs Will's jacket, slipping it on as she pads around trying to find something. 

Max blinks a few times, and before she knows it, her eyes are back on Lucas. 

His eyes are asking if she wants to talk, but his mouth is set in a straight line, as if he would rather spare himself of that kind of pain. 

The funny thing is, if they do talk, Max probably won't be the one rejecting him. 

Love is Max's least favorite topic, but she knows what she feels when it comes down to it. 

She loved El, and maybe she still does, but the El she fell in love with died last night in her arms, and she probably can't ever get her back. 

El won't do reckless or rude things anymore, because she won't wear that mask anymore.

It's selfish of Max to ask El to stop being herself now, and it was selfish of her to not tell El that she wasn't herself back in high school. It was selfish of her for wishing El would never realize she wasn't herself. 

Even so, a part of Max hoped they could have been completely isolated from everyone else for the rest of their natural lives. 

Lucas blinks a few times, before giving her a look that says 'later' and standing to walk into the kitchen, finishing off the eggs she started cooking. 

Max is about to follow him before a hand lands gently on her shoulder, pulling her attention to light brown eyes as a raspy voice asks is she's ready to go. 

Max looks at her with her eyebrows knitted together, her mouth set in a firm line as she looks down at El. "What?" 

El throws her elbow in the direction of the door. "Aspirin."

Max blinks for a moment before slapping herself on the forehead. "Right! Ok, uh-" she pauses for a second, stepping into her shoes and tossing on her windbreaker before addressing her again. "Is it ok if we run a few errands while we're out?"

El nods, so Max leans around the corner of the wall between the door and the tiny kitchen to address Lucas. "Do we need any groceries? I know Dustin's gonna stay at Steve's on Tuesday to 'study'" she puts the last part in air quotes, because they both know he's gonna end up watching old movies and drinking beer instead. "So, we won't need to get as much shit, but we still might need shit, right?" 

Lucas shrugs before taking a single step to the right to check the fridge, only to find an empty carton of orange juice and a couple of tomatoes. He then reaches up to check the top cabinet, which has about three packages of ramen and the ends of a loaf of bread. 

She sighs and walks over to the jar by the door where Lucas and Dustin collect any spare cash for groceries and shit, grabbing about thirty bucks. "I'll get us cheap shit from the drugstore before going to Kroger, and then we can swing by the administration office." She glances at El as she shoves the cash into her pants pocket. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here? I wanted to try to see if we could get our old place back, might take a while." 

El nods quickly, but before Max can grab her keys and reach for the door, Lucas interrupts. 

"You're just going to leave?" 

Max pauses and turns to see him with his head peeking around the corner, a disbelieving expression written across his features.

"Yeah, we're out of aspirin? Remember?" 

She knew what he meant, she just played dumb, because El has no reason to worry about Max right now, and Max hopes the glare she's sending Lucas is telling him all he needs to know. 

And if the way he huffs and turns away is any indication, he doesn't understand at all.

* * *

Mike tends to overthink things.

Quietly, obviously, because otherwise, people might start worrying about him. He can't have anyone looking out for him when he's not worth looking out for. 

When El left he lost track of the hours. He slept past his alarm and nearly missed the deadline for an essay that would have made him flunk physics. 

He loves physics. He's never told anyone, because 'who likes physics? It's just math with more rules.' Mike likes physics. Mike likes rules. 

He was working sometime in the afternoon. The diner, obviously. He can't quit his job, because he needs money. Just because every time a waffle comes out of the kitchen, he ends up looking to see if she's there, doesn't mean he has to force Will to pay for groceries, and the rent, and gas, and-

Well anything. Will doesn't have to pay for anything. 

He doesn't want to talk to her. Not now. Not this soon. 

He wants to see her though, wants to know how she's doing. Wants to know if he isn't the only one who feels insane right now. 

He thinks he sees her walk past the diner around noon, tagging along behind a redhead that has a few plastic bags hanging from her arms. Probably somebody else.

He thinks that her stuff has disappeared from his doorstep that evening. It's been out there all day, maybe somebody stole it. 

He thinks Lucas calls to tell him El and Max are moving back to their old apartment. Lucas has a lot of connections, it could be another El and Max. 

He thinks he sees her moving a box into a decrepit dorm building on his way to class once. He thinks he sees the redhead wave. Maybe they've mistaken him for someone else. 

He thinks he sees himself in the mirror sometimes. The real him. The one that wants and takes and asks. 

The one who is selfish. 

Most of the time, all that stares back at him is an empty pair of eyes with dark circles hanging beneath them. 

Will was talking to him the other night. He said it had been a month since El left. 

He laughed, because it's only been a day. 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, there are short little snippets of memories in this chapter. 
> 
> When I was writing, it was my aim to fully solidify what matters to these characters. Family, friends, lovers, etc. I hope the memories clear some things up. 
> 
> Another thing, I really wanted to tell the story of how Max got her mustang in this chapter, but after drafting it into five different parts of the story I just kind of gave up. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to fit it in anywhere, but it will help explain more why she doesn't associate herself with her family. 
> 
> With that, I'm off to go paint a shelf! 
> 
> Next chapters song is Francis Forever, which is again, a song by Mitski. 
> 
> (I think my intense love for Mitski is really starting to show.)


	21. I Don't Know Where to Put My Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight hehehe 
> 
> I've gotta get this shit posted though, because I'll end up rewriting it again if I don't.
> 
> Uhhhhh enjoy.

"When did you say it was?" 

Will sighs on the other end of the line _. "It's in May. Listen, you really don't have to come, I know I did the set designs, but I'm only gonna be pushing the props on and off stage."  _

El rolls her eyes as she balances her phone between her shoulder and her ear, opening another box to see a pile of psychology books. "Hey! If Joyce and Hop are coming up to see it, then why isn't it important for me to be there too?" 

There's a long pause over the phone and she faintly hears a shuffle of fabric through the white noise. 

"Will? Come on. You've been talking about this whole thing since January. You spend half of your week downtown in that theater. What do you not want me to know?" 

Another long pause. 

El sighs. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me I-" 

_ "I have a boyfriend!"  _

El blinks. "What?" 

_ "The lead. He's the lead in the play."  _

"Wh- the guy playing Macbeth?"

_ "Yeah." _

El wants to tell him she's proud. Overjoyed, even. It's only been about three months since Christmas break. 

_ After… _

She wants to say she's happy he's over it. That he's better than Troye. 

But how can she say that without scaring him away? Without reminding him of that cloud of sadness that used to loom over his head? 

The one she still isn't sure  _ she _ can ever be ridden of?

"Good for you." She swallows down the rest of her words and reaches for a book, her eyes cast down.

_ "Yeah." _

It's a little awkward, so El pushes forward hesitantly as her hands work on putting books on her little shelf. "So, what's he like?" 

There's a shallow hum, as if the motor in his head has to kick start to recall what he looks like. _ "He's blonde, uh, pretty tall, green eyes, kinda muscular…"  _

El smirks to herself. "You got a surfer type?" 

Will laughs, his familiar snorting giggle bubbling from the receiver.  _ "I guess you could call him that."  _

El smiles. "How is a guy like that gonna play Macbeth? Is he like, secretly insane?" 

_ "No, he's just a very convincing actor."  _

El sighs. 

She has a question on the tip of her tongue, one that jumps out at her to mock her, one she can't help asking. 

"So… how's stuff at the apartment?" 

There's an audible breath that comes through the line, annoyed yet concerned. 

_ "Mike is still the same, El." _

She bites her lip. "I know, I just want to make sure he isn't too lonely or anything." 

_ "He is lonely, El." A pause. "You know he does this, right? Whenever he's sad he just kind of shuts himself away. Something about not stressing everyone else out."  _

"Tell him he's doing it backwards. I can't stop stressing over him." 

_ "If you're worried you should text him."  _

El stills in place, her eyes glazing over as she puts another textbook away in a drawer. 

"You know how that ended last time, Will. He threw his phone out your fucking window." 

Will hums.  _ "Yeah, and Holly helped him pick out a new one." _

El stammers, cursing herself internally. "He's just going to ignore it again." 

Will speaks again, this time there's a smile evident in his voice. _ "I think if you keep trying he might realize that he's being stupid." _

El swallows the instinctual back-talk. "Ok, I'll try to get in touch." 

_ "Cool. Remember, May twenty-sixth, nine PM. Opening night."  _

"Ok, I'll see you-"

He hangs up.

She sighs and snaps her phone shut. 

"You ready to go?" 

El turns to look at her favorite redhead, an easy smile melting into her. 

"Yeah, I'm ready to go."

* * *

_ "Why are you still dating him?"  _

_ El scrunches up her nose. "Believe me, I wish I wasn't dating him either."  _

_ "Then break up with him. We can run away and start a little lesbian colony and grow our own food."  _

_ "That's a nice thought, but don't you wanna actually see the world?"  _

_ "El, at the moment you're pretty much the only good thing in my world."  _

_ El giggles. "That's stupid. Finish your Chem homework."  _

* * *

For the past four weeks, El and Max have spent nearly half of their Friday at Benny's.

Max comes here to meet up with Lucas and Dustin around lunch. 

El comes along because Max seems to be the only stable thing in her life right now. 

El thinks a part of it is that Steve quit once he was offered a job at a mini-mart off campus, and Dustin's been left alone to grieve his absence.

More likely though, is it's just because Mike works the lunch shift on Fridays, and that just happens to be when they arrive at the diner.

Maybe if she buries her head further into her arms, she can disappear from this world altogether. Create a new world in the space between her forehead and the table. 

A world where she was never a cheerleader and Mike was never a nerd, and they spent all their time being dumb horny teenagers while Max cheered her on from the background. 

Obviously, it's just a fantasy, because real life isn't perfect and people are assholes who like to put each other in boxes. 

"Dude, your milkshake is melting." 

El reaches a hand up and peers over her upper arm at Dustin, gently pushing her glass over to him. "You can have it. I'm not in the mood." 

Dustin beams and scoops the glass up off the table, plucking the perfect red cherry from the top and dropping it into his mouth like the cat that caught the canary.

But Max seems to jump a bit at her words, waking up from her determined focus on avoiding Lucas' gaze to look at her friend worriedly. "But you love strawberry."

El scoffed dismissively, burying her head back into the sticky table surface, her words muffling themselves in her arms. "Mike liked strawberry, too." 

Max sighed. "Seriously, El it's been over a month since you broke up. Just sleep with someone else and get it over with." 

El popped her eyes up to peer up at her friend, raising her brows and flicking her gaze from Lucas to Max with nervousness. 

_ What, does she mean start sleeping with her again? After everything that's happened?  _

Lucas catches her eyes and smiles warmly, oblivious to El's thoughts. "It might make you feel better."

There's a long pause where nobody says anything, and El wants to sink away into that silence for a moment, just to feel nothing at all for a second would feel like being at peace. As if she's pretending to forget that her heart is broken and her head won't stop screaming. 

Pretending that nothing's there. Pretending that she doesn't blame herself for it all. 

"I don't know." She mutters, her eyes closing drowsily as she tries to remember what homework she has due on Monday. 

Dustin slurps down the last of her Milkshake, a calm expression on his face. "Hey, it's whatever. You're just readjusting, I'm sure in a few weeks you'll be over it." 

El nods, lying to keep the worry away as she pulls out her phone, typing out a quick message with a light smile on her face.

"Yeah, you're probably right." 

And with one final breath, she hits the send button on her keypad, praying Mike won't throw his new phone into the fryer in the kitchen. 

* * *

_ "You don't have a phone yet?"  _

_ El shakes her head and Stacey gasps.  _

_ "Oh, that simply won't do! What if Troye texts you to go on a date or something?"  _

_ Jenny nods from Stacey's side, humming in agreement. "Yeah, no. If I didn't have a phone I wouldn't be able to coordinate with Stacey about meets and shopping and girl dates, and-" _

_ "She gets it, Jen." Stacey elbows the blonde next to her, red in the face. _

_ El smiles a bit too widely. "Ok, I'll uh-" _

_ Stacey shakes her head. "Oh, no worries. You and Max can just meet us at the mall on Saturday." _

_ El bites back a grimace. "Ok." _

* * *

"I texted him earlier."

Max hums curiously as she takes another sip of her afternoon coffee, flipping through some packet she had due next week. she's kicking her legs gently underneath the bench they've sat on, using a flickering street lamp as a reading light. 

It was half-past nine, but today was the first day of the year that the temperature was over forty, so El and Max had decided that staying late inside the diner would be a waste of the good weather. 

El flips a page in her psych book, the only one she's actually bought rather than rented. She's highlighting a passage about childhood trauma when she realizes that she didn't tell Max about the text just to tell her, but she wanted advice. 

She bites the inside of her cheek. "Do you think it was a good idea?" 

Max freezes her hands in place, one holding her packet open while the other tilts it towards the streetlamp's flickering light. She seems to have heard her this time, because just a moment later she looks over to El curiously. "What?" 

El tries to grab the conversation back from out of the air, forcing the topic to be acknowledged as she takes stock of herself. She was hungry- she was in college she was always hungry- tired enough that she could feel the weight of the dark circles under her eyes, and her foot was tapping against the ground at a rhythmic pace, the sound blending with the mechanical buzzing of the streetlamp above them. 

"I sent a text to Mike."

Max visibly stiffens, and for a few long moments, El wonders if it really was because of what she said, or just the cooler night breeze coming in.

She doesn't wonder for long, because as soon as she considers reaching for her friend, she speaks. 

"I thought you were done." She says coldly. 

El slides one of her hands up and over her textbook, capping her highlighter and tossing it into her bag as she dog-ears the page she's on. 

It's a habit she picked up from Mike back in seventh grade. However, she recalls a time somewhere in the past three months where Mike scolded her for doing so.

She sighs and holds the folded corner between her fingers. "I'm trying to change, Max."

Max huffs and flips another page of her packet, skimming through the words in the way she does when she's annoyed. 

"You never cared about that shit before." The redhead shoots El a quick glance before puffing her cheeks. "It was hot." 

Despite herself, El flushes. "Yeah?" 

Max hums lowly. "Yeah. I mean, why do you think I slept with you for so long?" 

There's a long pause where they just stare at each other, wondering if either of them will make a move to close the distance and throw them back into what they had before. 

But neither of them do. 

"So, was it a good idea?" 

Max turns to El fully this time, and she holds her gaze with a bittersweet smile, swallowing as she flips her packet back to the first page. 

"Yeah."

The streetlamp buzzes and Max flinches at the sound.

"He loves you."

El laughs and rolls her eyes, prepared to argue what's been said, but Max shakes her head sadly.

"He really does El, and I think you two will make each other happy." 

A few tears slip down her cheeks, and El doesn't stop them from landing on the packet in Max's hands, she simply allows it to fade into the recesses of her mind. 

And if Max smiles and tells her that her first love was a rude, short, brunette that smelled of strawberries and cigarettes, she pretends she already knew.

* * *

_ "Again."  _

_ "Seriously, Max this is like the third time we've watched this movie in a row. We've been here literally all day." _

_ "Well, Graham is hot, so, deal with it."  _

_ "Seriously? You think Graham is hot when Sinead is right there?"  _

_ Max tossed a piece of popcorn at her head. "You have a thing for sad goths don't you?"  _

_ "Just play the movie if you're gonna watch it again."  _

_ "That's what I thought, little miss 'I'm a cheerleader'." _

* * *

The next few days seem to pass almost as fast as Minutes, and suddenly it's nine pm on a Tuesday, and Mike is stuck at work late. 

And, for some reason, watered-down bleach isn't working on the counters today. 

The surface is still sticky and it smells like cherry soda, a smell that sets Mike off into another migraine. 

Cherry soda stains aren't visible, believe it or not. 

Or at least, these ones aren't. 

They're there though, Mike can feel the pool of corn syrup sitting beneath the cloth he's holding, can feel the slow drag of the material against the substance. 

For a moment, Mike wonders if he should just pour the bleach right onto the counter. Maybe it's weird stickiness will go away then. 

He also wonders if he drank the bleach, would his thoughts be cleared? 

Benny tells him to go home at around midnight, and for some reason, Mike wants to stay there. 

Wiping the counter as he thinks of what to send back to El. 

El. 

Today, at exactly one in the afternoon, El had texted him. 

He can't recall if he sent anything back. Maybe he did, or maybe he dreamed it. 

But sure enough, while checking his phone on the walk home, he sees that he drafted a message about breakfast on Saturday.

He has to have a plan. Because he can't just run up to her at nine am and start proclaiming his undying love to her. 

That's way too rom-com for El. 

No, he has to show her. Prove that he loves her, that he always has and always will. 

And what could convey that message better than a draft of a love letter he wrote in seventh grade. 

He opens the door to the apartment and finds Will passed out over a textbook again, drooling on the pages.

He's been overworking himself lately, late nights at the theater downtown- despite the fact that he's done with their set designs- early mornings spent finishing and art projects due the next day, the rest of his time spent in a lecture hall, wasting away as he scribbles down barely legible notes and eats cheap granola bars.

Mike sighs, moving towards their worn armchair, grabbing their thin blanket and tossing it over his shoulder as he moves to get Will's textbook out from under his head, replacing it with the coat off his back.

There's a moment where Mike just stands there, looming over his friend's sleeping form, wondering what kind of dreams he was having. 

Will. He hadn't stopped to think about him in over a month. 

He hadn't had time, he was always busy with work, and El-

But he wasn't. He was busy being hung up on El. 

Mike tosses the blanket over Will and walks over to his bedroom door, pushing it open with a light push and squeezing into the tiny place between the door and his bed, shutting himself in as he kicks off his shoes. 

He plops down onto his mattress, reaching down to remove his shirt off of his back, trying not to remember much smoother hands that had once mimicked the action. 

He fails, and her eyes phase through his thoughts, like a leaf getting stuck in his hair. Unnoticed until pointed out, and embarrassing when you wonder how long it was stuck with you. 

His phone's one-inch screen is barely visible in the moonlight, and Mike silently curses himself when it powers up to the image of an unsent text. 

Why does he care? 

He should be pissed. He should hate her. He should want to move on, find someone new. 

But as a stupid guy once said, his type could only ever be El Hopper. 

The one he met before that moment, the one he had seen on that night back at home in his old station wagon. 

The one that he let map out every freckle on his body with her fingers, as the fading light shown through her hair, gasping for air as she cried out into the night. 

And he hates how he misses the hurt. 

The way she would avoid the topic of commitment with a laugh. Her pouting face as Mike traded kisses with her, teasing her about making up for the lost time. The way she would mention how in some ways, Mike and Troye were kind of similar. 

And while he wishes none of those things would've happened, how he wishes that those conversations would fade into oblivion, he finds himself recalling the burn that it would bring to his heart. 

And he wishes that she would scorch him again.

And again.

And again, and again.

* * *

_ "If you're too scared you can move over here and sleep by me. I'm sure the guys won't make fun of you."  _

_ El sniffles. "Are you sure?"  _

_ Mike purses his lips. "No promises."  _

_ El giggles and crawls across the room, dragging her sleeping bag behind her.  _

_ "Y'know, I used to fall asleep to the sounds of people cursing each other out and honking their car horns on the street below me."  _

_ Mike hums. "And yet you're scared of Sleepaway Camp?" _

_ El shakes her head. "Nah. I wasn't scared. I just wanted an excuse to be closer to you."  _

_ Mike laughs. "You're a sap."  _

_ El smiles, but in the dark of the Wheeler basement, it gets lost.  _

_ And minutes later, when Mike's breathing evens out, El hears herself whisper,  _

_ "But I'm your sap."  _

_ And she slips away into the void. _

* * *

El clumsily reaches over the side of her bed as she searches for her alarm, begging for a few more minutes. 

But when her hand finds a small rectangle, she pauses and sits up fully, pulling the object up to her lap. 

New Message! From: Micheal Wheeler

El switched her phone open with a small click, scrolling through her apps before selecting messages, her half-conscious brain running on auto-pilot. 

**_(1:45 AM, TODAY)_ **

**Mike:** _Meet me at Benny's at nine AM this Saturday. I wanna talk._

El grumbles and switches her phone off, setting it back on the ground and rolling over to go back to sleep. 

She falls out of bed about thirty seconds later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love seeing a character move past a relationship they had before and not completely hating the person they were with before. :)
> 
> It's not like I'm drawing from experience hahaha. 
> 
> (Guys seriously this happens a lot irl why isn't it in more stories??? haha.)
> 
> Next chapters song is Falling in Love Again by Joyce Manor


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